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Saturn Square Neptune: The Danger of False Narratives, Part I

Saturn square Neptune
And the Danger of False Narratives

Part I: Hillary & Benghazi

By Glenn Perry

Political language is designed to make lies sound truthful and murder
respectable, and to give the appearance of solidity to pure wind.
~ George Orwell

t is generally accepted that politics is shrouded in lies. This may be a more or less permanent condition, much like cloudy weather in Seattle. Yet, it seems that when Saturn and Neptune align in hard aspect those clouds crystallize into hailstones of deceit that precipitate upon the populace with a din so deafening it can drown out the voice of reason. With Saturn square Neptune exact three times this year, a transparent film of lies has settled across the globe like a toxic pesticide.

Saturn Square Neptune

Figure 1: The Booromean Rings

Examples are legion but I will focus on three, which, because they are expressions of the same archetypal dynamic, intersect like Borromean rings: 1) the Hillary Clinton scandals involving Benghazi and her private email server; 2) the Black Lives Matter movement, and 3) ISIS propaganda that exhorts its followers to commit murder-suicide.

Given the complexity of the subject matter, I have decided to tackle these issues in four parts. Part I here explores the general meaning of Saturn square Neptune in light of Hillary Clinton’s recent travails. In our next installment, Part II, the political divide between liberal and conservative ideologies will be examined with a particular focus on Saturn-Neptune dynamics as symbolizing the birth, nature, and evolution of progressivism. Unless we understand progressivism, the remaining topics cannot be fully comprehended. Part III tackles the vexing conditions that have led to the Black Lives Matter movement, and Part IV examines the conflation of government and spirituality that is so disturbingly exemplified in radical Islam.

In what follows, I occasionally refer to the planets in terms of behavioral propensities that characterize individuals and institutions, but it should be clear that I am referring to archetypal components of the psyche, not whole people.

The Closing Square of Saturn to Neptune

The synodic cycle of Saturn-Neptune occurs over a period of approximately 36 years, starting with the conjunction, the most recent of which was in 1989, and ending with the next conjunction in 2026. As Saturn pulls away from Neptune by virtue of its faster orbital speed, it formed the first (or opening) square in 1998; the opposition occurred in 2006; and we’re currently in the closing square of 2016. In effect, it’s one long continuous 36-year cycle punctuated by four periods of acute activation that last for about one year each. And during that year, the relevant aspect will be exact three times―thus, the current square was exact on November 26, 2015; again on June 18 this year; and will once again be exact on September 10th. 

Because the Saturn-Neptune cycle is a cycle, it is important to understand the phase in progress. Not all phases are alike, first because they occupy different signs, and second because each angle has its own meaning. A closing square, which is the angle presently occurring, constitutes the start of the final 90 degree phase of the cycle. As such, it is a Capricorn angle, for an aspect derives its meaning from the nature of the sign that constitutes that angle in the zodiac.

As a Capricorn angle, the closing square implies that Saturn and Neptune must find a way to successfully combine their respective energies and build something of enduring value. Capricorn is associated with restraint, control, and the pursuit of realistic, practical ends; thus, the relationship between Saturn and Neptune will be characterized by exactly this dynamic throughout the period in question. And since Saturn is the ruler of Capricorn, this compounds and highlights the significance of Capricorn-Saturn during this particular phase of the Saturn-Neptune cycle.

Some Thoughts on Saturn
The archetype of Capricorn-Saturn is predominantly concerned with issues of success-failure. In fact, all Capricorn-Saturn behavior can be traced to a fear of failure. To compensate for this fear, there is a focused, disciplined, goal-oriented striving that endeavors to achieve the desired end―success―which is exemplified in authority figures that serve a regulatory or executive function, such as fathers, taskmasters, bosses, CEOs, and presidents. Institutionally, the Capricorn-Saturn archetype is inherent in government of all types at all levels, the proper function of which is to establish rules, enforce limits, and maintain civic order. Internally, Saturn correlates to our capacity for self-governance and self-restraint.

Implicit in Saturn is the notion of hierarchical order as reflected in nature’s tendency to organize its parts into increasingly complex wholes―atoms into molecules, molecules into cells, and cells combine to form multicellular organisms of ever increasing complexity, culminating in human beings who further self-organize into families, communities, towns, states and nations. Planets combine to make up solar systems, solar systems to make up galaxies, and galaxies are but parts of galactic clusters. “Infinity yawns at both the top and bottom of the stratified hierarchies of existence,” writes Arthur Koestler.[1]

While Saturn’s ultimate goal is success―that is, aspiring to the top of the hierarchy― success is a relative term, and when applied to collective human evolution we must assume that varying degrees of success-failure will characterize the current square. In effect, we can expect Saturn to test the viability and sustainability of any organization with a strong Neptunian component. Since our focus here is on the world of global politics, the following should be considered in that light.

Neptune: The Pursuit of Oneness
As ruler of Pisces, Neptune’s prime directive is attainment of a transcendent, spiritual ideal of unitive consciousness in which all divisions are reconciled into a blissful harmony. If human experience falls short of this ideal, which it almost invariably does, it causes distress and existential guilt. Human suffering due to loss, illness, poverty, old age, or victimization evokes a Neptunian response in us all, which we experience as compassion and the wish to relieve suffering. Neptune correlates to charity, aid, volunteerism, selfless service, and other altruistic activities dedicated to the ideal of an indiscriminate, all-inclusive, universal love.

Neptune’s flip side is the actual experience of suffering, which can be a gateway to the development of compassion, humility, and dependence upon a higher power. Spiritual traditions like Buddhism honor suffering as “the mud out of which the lotus flower blooms.” Christianity employs its own metaphors―purification through trial by fire, the passion of Christ, and so on. Virtually all spiritual traditions teach the necessity of suffering and its accompanying requirement: renunciation of attachment, as implied in the aphorism “Let go and let God”.

Because the spiritual impulse underlying Neptune is inherently sacrificial and submissive, it can easily be misdirected or carried to excess if driven by excessive, irrational guilt. The result can be escapism and self-undoing. Let go and let God becomes give up and self-destruct. Renunciation of attachment becomes abdication of responsibility. Surrender to a higher power is perverted into a life of dissolution, moral degeneracy, and abject dependency, often fueled by substance addiction. Not only can individuals do this, so can entire cultures, as we shall see.

While spiritual practice and charitable service is the healthy expression of Neptune, this can be misallocated via victim-savior dynamics that entail the enabling of bad behavior. Neptunian overfunctioning, or “co-dependency”, is again fueled by excessive and irrational guilt as evidenced when “saviors” feel compelled to rescue “victims” from the natural consequences of their own self-defeating actions. In this context, a victim is someone who is victimized by their own choices―to abuse drugs and alcohol, to drop out of school, to avoid work and responsibility, to be sexually promiscuous, to lie, steal, cheat, or otherwise engage in criminal behavior.

Typically the victim will manipulate the savior with intimations of blame, as if the cause and solution to the victim’s suffering lie outside themselves. Yet, by not allowing individuals to endure legitimate suffering, the savior merely enables and often exacerbates the victim’s problems. This can lead to savior burnout, depletion of resources, resentment, and more guilt. The French call such an arrangement a folie a deux (folly of two), a kind of mental illness shared by two entities caught in a vicious cycle that escalates over time.

One additional point regarding Neptune is germane: its penchant for obfuscation and fraud. Because Neptune symbolizes our desire for a transcendent ideal of infinite love and beauty, it is disinclined to recognize anything that deviates from this ideal. And since such ideals―for oneness, unity, heaven, paradise, utopia―necessarily emerge from the imagination (they have no obvious corollary in reality), Neptune signifies our capacity for fantasy. If reality deviates too markedly from the ideal, one can simply substitute fantasy for reality by superimposing the ideal over the real. Denial and deception entail the switch of an actual reality for a preferred one; hence, the Pisces-Neptune tendency for delusion, lies, and deceit.

The flip side is the Pisces-Neptune vulnerability to deception. Pisces-Neptune is the part of us that strives to reconcile duality into a unified whole; thus, it has difficulty making rational decisions that require Virgonian discernment and discrimination. A tendency toward feel-good fuzzy thinking, vacillation and acquiescence results. People often will believe what they want to believe and thus can be easily misled. As Hitler famously said, “Make the lie big, make it simple, keep saying it, and eventually they will believe it.”

While the Pisces-Neptune capacity for surrender, letting go, and trust in a higher power signifies spiritual strength in its own domain, it correlates to weakness when misdirected. For it is precisely its malleability that makes Neptune so easily influenced by stronger wills that frequently are not divine in their intentions. The upshot is that Pisces-Neptune is often the dupe, especially in relation to figures that embody those archetypes with which it is entangled―like Saturnian authority.

More on the Closing Square
I have taken time to articulate the individual psychologies of Saturn and Neptune, for it is their combination that ultimately concerns us here. As the reader might surmise, government, under the sway of certain political ideologies, has progressively assumed the role of savior to an increasingly victimized society. During Saturn-Neptune squares, these role dynamics are tested and stressed to the breaking point.

A cornerstone of AstroPsychology is that planets signify fundamental human drives and capacities. Viewed individually, each planet operates as an autonomous agent pursuing fulfillment of specific needs. Saturn, for example, signifies our capacity for success, which entails the pursuit of Capricorn needs for order and control. When combined in aspect, however, any two planets comprise a multi-agent system in pursuit of a joint goal that exists at a higher order of abstraction than the individual goals of the respective planets.

Multi-agent systems propagate as ideas or “cognitive structures” that entail plans for how best to collaborate in fulfilling the respective needs the planets rule. In effect, a planetary pairing symbolizes a narrative that provides an explanation for the way things are and a strategy for how to proceed in order to achieve the joint goal. Such narratives are inherent in planetary combinations independent of the angles they form during particular phases of their synodic cycle.

Ideas that emerge from multi-agent systems not only have histories, as reflected in their synodic cycles, they also have consequences. Any number of different strategies can accompany a multi-agent system, some more functional than others. Core strategies are like entities that evolve over time and take different forms depending upon the signs they occupy and the particular phase (angle) they are currently forming.

With regard to Saturn-Neptune, the closing square signifies that Saturn and Neptune have reached a critical mass or tipping point in their mutual struggle to achieve a joint goal. Consequences of the unfolding 36-year cycle between Saturn and Neptune will manifest as certain types of phenomena, notably in government, as government is a Saturnian entity that can be observed, measured, and evaluated. Government’s entanglement with Neptunian ideals will be especially apparent. During the closing square, events will occur that explicate the degree of integration in the collective psyche that Saturn and Neptune have achieved to date. In other words, the current story that undergirds their relationship is being tested. Is it wholly true, partly true? Is it functional? Is it the best we can do?

The ultimate ideal, of course, is for maximum differentiation and coordination of Saturn-Neptune so that their respective needs and functions are cooperating in perfect equilibrium. This might be reflected, for example, in some sort of global order inspired by a grounded, spiritual sensibility, a virtual heaven on earth, however remote and improbable that goal might seem. Preferably, Neptune infuses the natural hierarchical structure of society―individual, family, town, state, federal―from the bottom up, from the grass roots, from spiritual values inculcated in strong families and expressed through local churches, fraternal orders, service clubs, and voluntary non-profit organizations. Conversely, dangers lie in government policies that weaken the body-politic with misguided attempts to impose a utopian dreamworld from the top down.  

Just as with individual human beings, the goal of a fully integrated Saturn-Neptune dynamic is a work in progress. Each planet is inseparably tied to the other as figure to ground. When Saturn is emphasized, Neptune is ground; when Neptune is emphasized, Saturn is ground. Each must perform its functions in its own realm, but always in relation to the other’s predominant values. Government has to perform its proper function of maintaining civic order, yet simultaneously accommodate the reality of human suffering brought about, for instance, by floods and other natural disasters. Neptune must pursue its spiritual ideal of transcendent unity, while recognizing that a government’s capacity to allocate time and resources to such ends is limited.

A fundamental principle of all squares is mutual influence and reciprocal resistance. While not being able to escape the others influence, each planet’s respective values are operating at cross-purposes. If optimally managed, inherent tensions can be welded into a composite that is stronger than either one separately. One example might be government regulations that mitigate against the outbreak of disease. Or a charitable organization which, by benefiting from tax-exempt status, is empowered to distribute resources to the needy.

More likely, however, one planet will defend itself by overfunctioning at the other’s expense. Again, this is due to the inherent difficulty of integrating forces that are operating at cross purposes. Dysfunctional strategies result from the overfunctioning planet consciously denigrating the values of the repudiated planet, while unconsciously and unavoidably being saturated with that planet’s values. The result is a compromise formation―an odd, uncoordinated mix of the two planets that to varying degrees impairs the functionality of both.

For example, a government might denigrate traditional religious values, undermine Christianity, and favor Darwinian evolutionary theory over Intelligent Design; while, at the same time, assuming the responsibilities of a charitable, quasi-spiritual organization dedicated to the relief of suffering on virtually every front―open borders, sanctuary cities, amnesty to illegal immigrants, universal health care, redistribution of wealth via progressive taxation, and expansion of entitlement programs such as social security, welfare, unemployment, disability, food stamps, and government guaranteed student loans―all of which saps the economy, exhausts tax revenues, drives up the national debt, and neglects the country’s infrastructure to the point of collapse. Note on the one hand that Saturn depreciates the authentic spirituality of Neptune, and on the other becomes so overextended from the misappropriation of Neptunian functions that it teeters on the brink of self-destruction.

The Hillary Clinton Scandals
Hillary and Benghazi 1It is not my intention here to make a case for the guilt or innocence of Hillary Clinton in relation to her recent troubles. Rather, I am interested in what they mean in the larger context of Saturn square Neptune. In other words, the controversies surrounding Hillary are not only an expression of her natal chart, but a symbol of an unfolding Saturn-Neptune mindset in which we all move and have our being. Let us begin with the facts about Benghazi.

On the evening of September 11, 2012, the U.S. diplomatic post in Benghazi Libya was decimated in a premeditated military-style attack by approximately 150 terrorists armed with automatic weapons and heavy artillery. The entire incident lasted about 13 hours in two separate attacks. Four Americans were killed, including ambassador Chris Stevens and information manager Sean Smith. CIA agents Tyrone Woods and Glen Doherty were killed in the second attack, and ten others were wounded. Surviving Special Forces members subsequently reported that they were ordered to stand down (not defend the compound) three times. They finally defied orders and went anyway.

In the aftermath, Hillary Clinton, in her role as Secretary of State, took responsibility for security lapses that left the U.S. post unprotected in the midst of Islamic terrorists that had sprouted in the blood soaked, toxic soil of former president Muammar Gaddafi’s death. The decision to deploy as few troops as possible to Libya was part of the Obama foreign doctrine of leaving a small footprint and not intimidating foreign governments with U.S. military might.[2] Rather than admit the lethal consequences of their mistake, however, for the next two weeks Hillary and Obama repeatedly suggested the attack was due to a spontaneous protest triggered by an amateurish 13 minute anti-Islamic “trailer” produced by a U.S. Muslim and uploaded on YouTube.

When this narrative was challenged by reporters, Hillary and Obama sidestepped by referring to “an ongoing investigation.” Susan Rice, U.S. ambassador to the United Nations, repeated the official line in five sequential television appearances: Benghazi was a protest that evolved into a spontaneous, unpremeditated attack provoked by a “hateful video” satirizing the prophet Muhammad.

There was, in fact, such a video, and it had provoked demonstrations in the Muslim world. But there was never any evidence that it inspired the Benghazi attack. Republicans suspected the video was a red herring to deflect attention from the real issue. For the prior two years, the American people had been told that al-Qaeda had been defeated. “Osama bin-Laden is dead and Al Qaeda is on the run” was Obama’s stump speech for his 2012 reelection campaign. Only months from the election, the attack on Benghazi contradicted the narrative and was thus a political liability.

During the weeks following the attack it was apparent that a carefully scripted official story was being systematically fed to the American public: That hateful video killed our boys. No other possibility was mentioned despite Libya’s new president, Mohamed Yusuf al-Magariaf, publically proclaiming on September 16: “The way these perpetrators acted and moved, and their choosing the specific date for this so-called demonstration, this leaves us with no doubt that this was preplanned, predetermined.”[3]

Obama’s Rose Garden statement on September 12 did include, “No acts of terror will ever shake the resolve of this great nation.” However, there’s an important difference between attributing acts of terror to a spontaneous uprising and admitting that Benghazi was a premeditated, well-orchestrated attack by al-Qaeda. That admission would not come until more than two weeks later in response to incontrovertible evidence that refuted the original narrative.

Meanwhile, both Hillary and Obama kept repeating that the attacks were due to an offensive video directed at the prophet Muhammad. As late as September 25, two weeks after the attacks, Obama said on another U.S. talk show, “The View”:

That is what we saw play out in the last two weeks, as a crude and disgusting video sparked outrage throughout the Muslim world. Now, I have made it clear that the United States government had nothing to do with this video, and I believe its message must be rejected by all who respect our common humanity.[4]

Subsequent congressional investigations revealed that the CIA almost immediately received intelligence reports that there was no “protest” at Benghazi on September 11. In fact, the CIA’s initial September 12 executive update stated that “this was an intentional assault and not the escalation of a peaceful protest.”[5] This language was subsequently dropped for reasons that in retrospect are clear. An email from top Obama aide Ben Rhodes lays bare the White House strategy. “Goals: To underscore that these protests are rooted in an Internet video, and not a broader failure of policy.”[6]

That the preferred narrative was fabricated from the beginning is evident in Hillary Clinton’s initial press statement on 10:08 pm, September 11th, within an hour of the attack and while it was still ongoing.

Some have sought to justify this vicious behavior as a response to inflammatory material posted on the Internet. The United States deplores any intentional effort to denigrate the religious beliefs of others. Our commitment to religious tolerance goes back to the very beginning of our nation.[7]

What is extraordinary about this statement is not merely that it’s a smokescreen, but the nature of the narrative itself. It subtly intimates that the cause of extremist violence is religious intolerance, and by implication any intolerance. Whether Hillary truly believes this is open to question, but that is the narrative they chose to propagate: violence is wrong, but intolerance is more wrong because it is the reason for violence.

Server, what server?

An unexpected outcome of the congressional investigation was the discovery that Clinton was using a private server for official government correspondence. While 32,000 of her private emails were reportedly deleted after being requested, many were recovered.[8] Of special significance are two, one sent the day of the attack and the other the day after. Within the hour following her September 11 press statement, Hillary wrote her daughter, Chelsea: “Two of our officers were killed in Benghazi by an al Qaeda-like group….Very hard day and I fear more of the same.”[9] And in an email the following day, September 12, she recounts her conversation with the Egyptian foreign minister:

We know that the attack in Libya had nothing to do with the film. It was a planned attack—not a protest. . . . Based on the information we saw today we believe the group that claimed responsibility for this was affiliated with al-Qaeda.[10]

Two days later, September 14, Hillary attended the transfer of remains ceremony with the family members of those killed at Benghazi. In her official remarks at the ceremony, she stated: “We’ve seen rage and violence directed at American embassies over an awful internet video that we had nothing to do with.” Kate Quigley, sister of deceased Navy SEAL Glenn Doherty, said that Hillary again brought up the story about the phony Libyan protest in their private conversation. “When I think back now to that day and what she knew…it shows me a lot about her character that she would choose in that moment to basically perpetuate what she knew was untrue.”[11]

Patricia Smith, mother of slain information officer Sean Smith, had this to say in her congressional testimony at the Benghazi hearings:

Obama and Hillary and Panetta and Biden and Susan [Rice] all came up to me at the casket ceremony. Every one of them came up to me, gave me a big hug, and I asked them, ‘what happened, please tell me.’ And every one of them said it was the video. And we all know that it wasn’t the video. Even at that time, they knew it wasn’t the video. So they all lied to me.[12]

Likewise Charles Woods, father of Navy SEAL Tyrone Woods, reported that when he gave Hillary a hug and shook her hand after the ceremony, she said, “We are going to have the filmmaker arrested who was responsible for the death of your son.”[13] It doesn’t get any clearer than that. Not al-Qaeda, not Obama’s foreign policy of leading-from-behind, not Hillary’s failure to provide adequate security to the compound, but anti-Islamic sentiment killed the four Americans.

Hillary & BenghaziWhen confronted with these allegations, Clinton pushed back, saying that any contradictions in her statements about Benghazi were due to “the fog of war,” fragmentary and disjointed information that was “changing by the hour.”[14] However, given the consistency and certainty of the Obama administration’s statements about the video, and given concerns about Obama’s re-election and Hillary’s looming run for the presidency, it is difficult not to conclude that Hillary was complicit in fabricating the politically expedient but ultimately false narrative. Such is the crux of the just released report of the House Select Committee on Benghazi:

Obama Administration officials, including the Secretary of State [Hillary Clinton], learned almost in real time that the attack in Benghazi was a terrorist attack. Rather than tell the American people the truth, the administration told one story privately and a different story publicly.[15]

It is also worth noting that despite eight congressional investigations costing 20 million tax payer dollars, it has never been determined who was responsible for the order that U.S. forces stand down. Upon being informed of the attack on the afternoon of September 11 by then-Secretary of Defense Leon Panetta, Obama “immediately ordered the military to deploy all available assets.”[16] Allegedly, he never modified or rescinded the order; yet, there were three stand-down orders according to CIA operatives who eventually disobeyed their superiors and rushed to rescue Ambassador Stevens in the burning compound. Moreover, no military assets were deployed to help the few men who fought 150 terrorists. The last two Americans were killed almost 8 hours after the attacks began. When Obama was solicited by the House Select Committee on Benghazi to address these unanswered questions, he refused to comply.[17]

The Astrology of Benghazi
I have taken some time to detail the events surrounding Benghazi because they illustrate in microcosm a larger narrative symbolized by Saturn square Neptune. As expected, the current phase of the Saturn-Neptune cycle is crystallizing in events that reveal the relative integration of these two archetypal forces. While the events and subsequent cover-up of Benghazi occurred in 2012, the fact that it has been headline news since the fall of 2015 illustrates how planetary dynamics “pop” into acute manifestation during angles like the closing square.

An additional factor to consider is the sign positions of the two planets―Saturn in Sagittarius, and Neptune in Pisces. Since Neptune rules Pisces, its sign position does not add any new information other than it doubles-down on the basic psychology of Neptune, making it pure and strong. Saturn in Sagittarius, however, adds something new to the mix. After a brief tenancy prior to retrograding back into Scorpio, Saturn settled into Sagittarius to stay in September of 2015, where it will remain until December 2017.

Sagittarius symbolizes the principle of expansion, as exemplified in the search for truth and meaning. It rules the domain of higher learning, justice, law, ethics, morality, religion, philosophy, ideology, travel, and foreign affairs. Saturn’s two year sojourn through Sagittarius correlates to a serious, pragmatic focus on the aforementioned fields, especially with regard to perceived shortcomings and failures.

Saturn tends to contract, restrict, and reduce for the sake of economizing, cutting away unessential elements and getting to what is solid and real. In Sagittarius, examples are legion, from halting the spread of a toxic ideology like radical Islam to restricting the flow of illegal immigration. With regard to our central topic, however, it is epitomized in the House Select Committee on Benghazi, which released its final report on July 8, 2016. A highlight of the investigation was Hillary Clinton’s testimony in October 2015, right after Saturn ingressed into Sagittarius and during which there was a serious attempt to get to the bottom of what really happened and why. Hillary’s honesty in the entire matter was the overriding, central question.

It is the square between Saturn and Neptune, however, that tells the larger story. Recall that when two planets are square, one can overcompensate as a defense against the other while simultaneously being influenced by the repressed planet at an unconscious level. For example, Saturn in Sagittarius could signify an authority figure taking the moral high ground while projecting responsibility for the tragic outcomes of her own wrongdoing onto a convenient scapegoat. At a conscious level, she (Saturn) presents herself as wise and truthful (Sagittarius); yet, unconsciously is plagued by guilt (Neptune) that must be exported into the environment.

A more integrated version would entail an honest and humble admission of mistakes with a willingness to suffer the consequences, even if it means a momentary loss of status. However, until and unless Saturn’s square to Neptune is integrated, we can expect authority figures to employ false narratives as a defense against loss, suffering, and guilt.

In the Benghazi incident, all of this is immediately evident. Saturn is represented by Hillary and the Obama administration. Their foreign policy of leading from behind―anti-imperialist ethics, minimizing America’s influence abroad, and pulling back troops―is consistent with Saturn in Sagittarius square Neptune. According to the House Select Committee on Benghazi, a major reason for the attack was Hillary’s failure to provide requested troops for fear of offending Muslims.

As a result of this lead-from-behind foreign policy…[and] although the State Department considered Libya a grave risk to American diplomats in 2011 and 2012, our people remained in a largely unprotected, unofficial facility that one diplomatic security agent the committee interviewed characterized as ‘a suicide mission.’ [18]

This is especially interesting in light of Saturn’s square to Neptune. Recall that Neptune’s prime directive is transcendence such that all divisions that separate races, religions, and cultures are reconciled into a common unity. Applied to politics, this is a formula for world peace―the ultimate Neptunian ideal. Yet, a mature spirituality recognizes that the journey to world peace necessarily and inescapably involves suffering and the gradual dissolution of attachments that maintain separateness. Realistically, such a goal may require innumerable just wars and be thousands of years in the making from where we are now.[19] Global unity is not something that can be forced; you cannot push the river and accelerate the pace of human evolution to comply with your political ambitions.

This is what I alluded to earlier when I said that planets in square operate at cross purposes. The Obama administration (Saturn) aspired to world peace (Neptune). Ending wars in the Middle East was a primary objective; yet, Obama did not want to endure the necessary suffering over the long term that such an ideal would exact. So, by forcing the issue and pulling out troops prematurely from Iraq, not holding the “red line” with Syria, and generally weakening our position in the Middle East, it created a power vacuum that al Qaeda and ISIS rushed in to fill.

The tragedy of Benghazi is symptomatic of a larger problem―a misguided attempt to force a premature unity―that has characterized the Obama administration from the beginning and, by implication, liberal foreign policy in general.[20] Peace politics and the anti-war movement has always been linked to the Democratic Party. Yet, innumerable critics and U.S. Military leaders have pointed out that Obama’s legacy will be “endless war” precisely because he was afraid to actually fight one.[21] As former Defense Secretary Robert Gates put it, “President Obama simply wanted the ‘bad’ war in Iraq to be ended.”[22]

What I wish to suggest here is how Saturn’s resistance to Neptunian hardship (unintegrated square) is what brought hardship about. I am not proposing that loss and suffering of the sort that occurred in Benghazi is inevitable and thus we should do nothing. Rather, it is the failure to allow for at least some loss and suffering―that is, to be adequately prepared for it―that renders a system more vulnerable to the thing avoided. Hillary’s failure to protect the Embassy in Benghazi by providing adequate troops made working there a virtual “suicide mission” according to one of her own agents. And this says nothing about the mysterious stand down orders and failure to deploy U.S. military assets during the 13 hour siege.

Neptune’s signature strategy of denial and avoidance was further evident in the cover-up that followed. Rather than admit that the Benghazi tragedy was due to “a broader failure of policy,” as Ben Rhodes put it, Hillary and Obama doubled down and scapegoated the filmmaker who uploaded the anti-Islamist video. In so doing, they constructed an illusion (Neptune) that their authority (Saturn) was unimpeachable and their ideology (Sagittarius) unassailable, while projecting moral failure onto the makers of “a crude and disgusting video”. Their attempt to avoid a humiliating loss of political power echoed their larger strategy of wanting to achieve a premature global unity while avoiding the risks and hardships of war.

Jung’s dictum that “neurosis is born from a failure to endure legitimate suffering” applies equally well to the political arena. In Part II, we will examine the Saturn-Neptune origins of what may well be a political neurosis that has afflicted western culture for more than a century.

To be continued…


[1] Koestler, A. (1978).  Janus: A summing up.  New York: Vintage Books, p. 67

[2] “Select Committee on Benghazi Releases Proposed Report,” from The Select Committee on Benghazi, U.S. House of Representatives, July 8, 2016.

[3] Kessler, Glenn. “From video to terrorist attack: a definitive timeline of administration statements on the Libya attack,” in The Washington Post, September 27, 2012.

[4] Ibid.

[5] Kessler, Glenn. “Is Hillary Clinton a ‘liar’ on Benghazi?” in The Washington Post, October 30, 2015.

[6] Hemingway, Mollie. “5 Big Takeaways From The House Benghazi Report,” in the Federalist, June 28, 2016.

[7] Kessler, Glenn. “From video to terrorist attack: a definitive timeline of administration statements on the Libya attack,” in The Washington Post, September 27, 2012.

[8] Halper, Daniel. “FBI: Clinton was ‘extremely careless’ with email, but no charges,” New York Post, July 5, 2016.

 [9] Kessler, Glenn. “Is Hillary Clinton a ‘liar’ on Benghazi?” in The Washington Post, October 30, 2015.

[10] Ibid.

[11] Ibid.

[12] “Reviews of the Benghazi Attacks and Unanswered Questions,” First Session, September 19, 2013.

[13] Kessler, Glenn. “Is Hillary Clinton a ‘liar’ on Benghazi?” in The Washington Post, October 30, 2015.

[14] Kamisar, Ben. “Clinton denies lying to Benghazi victim’s families,” in The Hill, March 09, 2016 at:

[15] “Select Committee on Benghazi Releases Proposed Report,” from The Select Committee on Benghazi, U.S. House of Representatives, July 8, 2016.

[16] Bade, Rachel. “White House refuses Benghazi questions for Obama,” in Politico, 06/26/16, at:

[17] Bade, Rachel. Ibid

[18] Select Committee on Benghazi Releases Proposed Report,” from The Select Committee on Benghazi, U.S. House of Representatives, July 8, 2016.

[19] Walzer, Michael. (2015). Just and unjust wars: A moral argument with historical illustrations. New York: Basic Books

[20] Obama, Barack, “Breaking the War Mentality,” Sundial, March 10, 1983,

[21] Woodward, Bob. 2010. Obama’s Wars. New York: Simon and Schuster

[22] Gates, Robert. (2015). Duty: Memoirs of a Secretary at War. New York: Vintage Books

A Template 1

Ruminations On
Sun-Sign Cancer

By Glenn Perry

Evidence suggests that the zodiac not only symbolizes the structure and dynamics of the psyche, but also the evolutionary unfoldment of consciousness. The structure of the zodiac exactly parallels the stages of the human life cycle. Each sign can be understood as a developmental stage of specific quality and duration.

The dominant traits and concerns of each sign are age-appropriate for the stage corresponding to that sign. Infants (Aries) are necessarily selfish, egocentric, and concerned about survival. Toddlers (Taurus) are preoccupied with attachment needs and are easily forgiven for wanting things to stay the same. Seven year olds (Gemini) are naturally fickle, shallow, and curious. Latency age children (Cancer) turn inwards and become more vulnerable to rejection. Adolescents (Leo) are unavoidably narcissistic, willful, and defensive. Novice adults (Virgo) worry about job skills and employability.

Marriage and partnership are dominant concerns of thirty-year olds (Libra), while mid-life adults (Scorpio) obsess about death and power. Afterwards, they become increasingly interested in justice and moral imperatives (Sagittarius). Sixty year olds (Capricorn) are expected to be conservative, traditional, and to uphold the status quo. The seventies (Aquarius) mark a period of radical change as individuals detach from old identifications. And a gradual dissolution and readiness to return to source marks the final stage of life, from 77 and beyond (Pisces).

Ruminations on Sun in Cancer

What It’s Like for a Guy
Ruminations On Sun-Sign Cancer

By Glenn Perry

A while ago I was asked by astrologer Leah Imsiragic to answer a few questions about my personal experience of Sun in Cancer. Other astrologers were asked about their Sun signs, and our responses were eventually published…I can’t remember where, which is embarrassing for a Sun-Cancer as we’re supposed to have good memories. However, since the summer solstice was just last week (start of Cancer), I thought it timely to republish my reflections on this sign. I have taken the liberty to flesh out some ideas that were merely hinted at in my original responses to Leah.

Sun in CancerLeah: Why is the Sun’s sign position in the natal horoscope important and what can that tell us?

Glenn: I always say that the Sun performs the same role in the psyche that it does in the solar system. It is the central hub around which everything else revolves; it’s the heart of the matter, the core of the personality, the seat of consciousness. Psychologically, it signifies creative self-expression, intentionality, and will―our capacity to choose and by our choices create an identity.

Underlying our choices and creative self-expression is a wish that others will validate those choices; that they will enjoy and approve of what we express and who we are becoming. Validation and approval support the development of self-esteem, which is one the Sun’s prime objectives.

The sign and house position of the Sun show how (sign) and where (house) the person will attempt to establish his or her own identity. It reveals how and where the person will experience a sense of purpose, play, creativity, enjoyment, and pride―and, we might also say, a sense of honor.

Honor is a somewhat archaic term and a quality we see too little of these days. In brief, honor (or lack thereof) is the summary product of one’s choices. Its attainment implies a concerted effort to act correctly―that is, in ways that demonstrate one’s courage, kindness, trustworthiness, responsibility, and benevolence. Honor implies integrity and purity of motive. And having it assures the respect and esteem that is afforded persons that consistently display nobility of character. Since it feels good to act right, honor is also commensurate with self-esteem.

Liam Neeson as Sun in Cancer

I love the scene in the film, Rob Roy (1995), when the hero, Robert Roy MacGregor (Liam Neeson), is asked by his son, “Father, what is honor?” MacGregor reflects for a moment and then responds:

All men with honor are kings, but not all kings have honor. Honor is what no man can give you and none can take away. Honor is a man’s gift to himself.

His son replies: “How do you know you have it?” “Never worry on the getting of it,” says MacGregor. “It grows in you and speaks to you. All you need do is listen.”

This is the gift of the Sun, rightly earned. It implies a solar tropism toward honor, such that our inner Sun (king) is always guiding, coaxing, and encouraging the self to make choices that accord with one’s better angels. As Polonius said in Hamlet,

“This above all: to thine own self be true.
And it must follow, as the night the day.
Thou canst not then be false to any man.” 

Surely this is what Macgregor means when he exhorts his son to listen to the voice of honor as it slowly grows within. To thine own self be true. For to do otherwise is to ultimately become dishonorable, which is accompanied by a painful loss of self-esteem.

The Sun sign, of course, is very different from the Sun itself, even though astrologers tend to conflate them. I don’t like to talk about signs as personalities, such as he is a Cancer or she is a Capricorn, because it gives the false impression that signs can be reduced to personality types. It implies that Sun-signs are signs, when, in fact, a sign is expressed differently contingent upon the planet that occupies it. 

Essentially, a sign is a motive or drive that seeks fulfillment according to its own nature. Every sign wants something; that is, it symbolizes a need that is universal. And the nature of that need generates behavior appropriate to its ends. If Cancer signifies the need for belonging (to a family, community, and nation), then Cancerian behavior is naturally caring, protective, supportive, devoted, loyal, patriotic, and so on. This underscores that a sign’s behavior is best understood in the context of the need that behavior serves. 

The meaning of a Sun-sign is more complex than merely a sign, for it entails a two-variable compound―Sun and sign. Of necessity Sun-signs must be conceptualized in terms of solar functions of self-expression, will, and identity. First, people express themselves in a manner consistent with the nature of their Sun-sign. Second, they make choices – exercise their will – in a way that reflects the psychology of that sign. And third, they tend to identify with that sign’s motivating principle and implicit values. All of this is very abstract, I realize, but it serves to establish the foundation of the matter.

Ultimately, the sign position of the Sun constitutes a path of honor for that individual. It is that principle of life one must fully develop and embody, in its highest sense, in order to actualize his or her potential to become honorable. I am not saying that the Sun-sign is the sole means to honor, but that it is a critical passage of a larger journey that encompasses the self and life as a whole. 

Sun-sign CancerLeah: What is the essence of Cancer?

Glenn: This is a good question. Again, it should be noted that it is a different question than “how does the Sun function in Cancer?” I’ll try to address both. The essence of Cancer is the need for closeness, belonging, understanding, nurturing, and unconditional love. This need (or conglomeration of needs) underlies and motivates all Cancerian behavior. It follows that any behavioral trait of Cancer can be understood in the context of the need(s) that behavior serves. Cancerian introspection, caring, and sensitivity to rejection are all in the service of fulfilling Cancer’s primary need for closeness.

It’s worth mentioning that Cancer is semi-sextile Leo, which is the sign the Sun rules. Leo comes immediately after Cancer in the zodiac. It is the Sun’s natural home, the place where it feels most comfortable and can most easily be itself. Signs that are semi-sextile have a compensatory relationship, as if the succeeding sign is pushing away the sign that precedes it by saying, “I am so over you; I define myself by being everything you’re not!” So, when the Sun is placed in Cancer, it’s like going backwards, precisely because Cancer is behind Leo. The urge to differentiate and carve out a personal identity by making choices that express one’s authentic self is inhibited by invisible loyalties to the past. This is the equivalent of having a 13 year old boy balk at the prospect of adolescence. He would prefer to remain close with his family and not have to deal with adolescent angst involving the formation of a personal identity distinct from his family.

Summer solstice with Sun in CancerThis regressive quality of Cancer is interesting in light of the summer solstice, which is the beginning of Cancer. The Sun appears to stop its northern climb, hovers for three days, and then begins to move backwards, lower and lower in the sky until six months later it arrives at the winter solstice and reverses course again. This can be seen as a metaphor of Cancer’s natural reticence, hesitation, and backward quality (Cancer rules the past, ancestry, history). In effect, Cancer restrains the Sun’s natural expression of upward and outward by muting its exuberance. It softens and gentles it, turns it inward, and inclines intentions in the direction of caring for, and protection of, that which has already been established―precedents, traditions, foundations.

Rather than differentiate oneself from others by a strong, clear expression of personal will, the solar function is stifled in Cancer because expression of personal preference may have the unintended consequence of creating distance between oneself and others. By itself, the Sun might spontaneously declare, “I am a Catholic, a Republican, a Yankee fan, and I love country music!” But if in Cancer, the Sun might worry that many people could be alienated by those choices because they cannot identify with them. There are bound to be people who are Protestants, Democrats, Mets fans, and hate country music. This is worrisome to Cancer.

All of this implies that Sun-Cancer cannot readily and naturally be authentic―that is, true to itself, out of fear it might be setting itself up for rejection. “If I don’t belong to the Protestant family, the Mets family…those people won’t like me.” It equally worries that others who make different choices could feel rejected by Sun-Cancer’s non-endorsement of those choices.

Leah: What is the best and strongest quality of the sign of Cancer?

That would be emotional intelligence. Cancer’s ability to tune in, sense, and accept what’s happening on a feeling level gives it an instinctive ability to understand people and situations emotionally. It then adjusts its behavior accordingly.

chameleon embodies Sun in CancerThis is why Cancer is often described as having chameleon-like qualities that enable it to blend in with its environment. Again, the need for closeness and belonging are primary drivers that underlie all Cancerian behavior. We could even say this is what motivates a mother’s love for her child. The maternal instinct to retain closeness entails an innate capacity to understand what the child is feeling and needing at any given moment, to feel in sympathy with the child so that a loving connection can be maintained.

With the Sun in Cancer, there’s an ability to express caring, understanding, sympathy, protection, and so on. It is precisely these attributes with which the person is identified, even heroically invested. Such sentiments extend to all life, especially life-forms in need of protection. For me cruelty to animals is almost unbearable, even when merely imagined. I remember in 1984 I had just gotten out of the movie, Greystoke: The Legend of Tarzan, Lord of the Apes, in which Tarzan’s surrogate ape-father is shot and killed by humans at the end of the film. Feeling naturally protective of animals, I was extremely upset. As I was pulling out of the parking lot, another car entered and tried to force me to back up. I jumped out of my car and was ready to fight. I was so furious with humans I was ready to kill one for what they did to poor Tarzan’s father.

On another occasion when I was 12 years old, some boys I was playing with shot and killed a rabbit with a pellet gun behind a neighbor’s house. I was horrified! How could they be so uncaring, so insensitive! Under threat of violence I forced them to dig a hole, bury the murdered rabbit, and express suitable condolences and regret. I’m sure at that point they harbored secret doubts as to whether I really was a guy.

Leah: What is the weakness of the sign of Cancer?

As with any sign, its strength is also its weakness when carried too far. Simply place the word ‘over’ in front of any Cancerian attribute and one can glimpse the problem―oversensitive, overprotective, or overemotional. Cancer’s sensitivity to rejection and its worry of hurting others can incline it to timidity, shyness, and reticence, especially when the Sun is in this sign.

As the ruler of Leo, the Sun corresponds to play, recreation, and socializing with friends. But with Sun in Cancer, it’s hard for me to initiate social contact and express a desire to play―even something as simple as calling a friend―as I assume it would be an imposition and display a lack of sensitivity. Maybe they’re having dinner, or engaged in a task, or parenting their child. I tend to start every call with an apology, “I’m so sorry to bother you…” I know it is irrational, but it’s instinctive. Conversely, if Sun-Leo calls a friend, they assume it is a compliment to that person, which it actually is.

If my Moon rather than Sun were in Cancer it would obviously work better since Cancer’s strengths would then be utilized in the service of lunar functions that require exactly those traits. There are occasions when listening, understanding, and expressing sympathetic rapport are entirely appropriate. During such times, the Moon is activated. And if it’s in Cancer, then one’s lunar capacity to respond sensitively is strong and natural.

However, since the Sun constitutes its own functions (will, play, self-expression), it requires traits that are distinctly different from Cancer. When a solar situation predominates, such as being at a party, the Sun’s functionality is inhibited by virtue of being in the sign ruled by the Moon. Sun-Cancer is the classic wallflower―shy, hanging back, on the sidelines rather than out front. Imagine at a party it’s your turn to play charades. But you would rather blend in with the furniture or serve the guests some chips than perform in front of strangers!

It should be understood that Cancer’s weakness is not so much an inherent property as a consequence of its lack of integration with other parts of the self. People can express any sign badly – either too much or too little – but that’s not the fault of the sign. When a planet is in a sign that forms a hard aspect to the sign it rules, such as when the Sun is in Cancer, then that planet’s functionality is compromised; it’s more difficult for the planet to be itself. Recall Leo is semi-sextile Cancer. Since the Sun rules Leo, Sun-Cancer is like a Shakespearian actor having to perform the role of Juliet when he would much prefer to play Romeo.

Leah: What have you learned from your Sun-sign?

That I would prefer to have my Sun in Leo. All kidding aside, I’ve learned the importance of knowing how to deal with feelings. Paradoxically, there is tremendous power in the capacity to be emotionally vulnerable and transparent. The willingness to open up and share that side of myself has had unexpected benefits that I could not have foreseen as a child growing up in a family where feelings were shunned. I am fiercely loyal to my feelings now, and regard them as my staunchest ally.

People can disagree with your thinking, but not with your feelings. If I say, “Islam is more a political ideology than a religion,” people can legitimately disagree with me. But if I say, “Islam scares me,” that’s not a statement with which one can disagree. It’s simply how I feel. There’s no right or wrong about it, even if it might serve as a basis for further conversation. When one’s thoughts, values, and decisions are supported by feelings, there is more gravitas to the person, more substance and depth of personality. Feelings are your ground, the rudder of your ship, the roots of your being. Feelings are what enable us to connect with one another.

Forest Whitaker is a Sun in Cancer personality
Forest Whitaker as Big Harold

I remember seeing the Oliver Stone film, Platoon, back in 1986. It was about American soldiers fighting the Vietnam War. After one of the battles, some soldiers were arguing vociferously about right and wrong, about whether America should even be in the war. Tempers were flaring when Big Harold, played by the consummate actor Forest Whitaker, simply said: “I don’t know, brothers, but I’m hurting real bad inside.” In that instant the whole energy shifted, quieted, and calmed. Big Harold had given voice to what everyone was experiencing, and suddenly they were all connected. A simple expression of feeling can do that.

While Cancer (and the Moon) is associated with feelings, this should not imply that the Cancer-Moon archetype is feelings. Sometimes you’ll hear astrologers say, “The Moon is feelings.” But this is misleading. To be sure, Cancer-Moon has its own feelings (tenderness, protectiveness, maternal love), but every sign-planet system is characterized by certain kinds of feelings that when triggered activate the planet to take appropriate action. If a person feels their life is in danger when a stranger rushes towards them with a club, those are Aries feelings―alarm, agitation, aggression―which stimulates the flight or fight response of Mars.

The Cancer-Moon archetype symbolizes one’s capacity to feel the entire panoply of emotions that being human entails, to be receptive to such emotions, and to convey their message to the appropriate planetary function. It does a person little good to have emotions if s/he cannot consciously feel them, understand their meaning, and channel them into an appropriate response. The stronger the Cancer-Moon archetype in a chart, such as having Sun (or any planet) in Cancer, the more likely the native is capable of dealing with feelings. It’s as if their conduit to feelings is wider and deeper than people who are not so blessed. 

Leah: What is the Sign(s) you deal the best with and what is the most difficult sign for you and why?

That’s a difficult question, since I think that all signs are equally difficult and equally easy, depending upon the person expressing them. I personally am very attracted to Scorpionic qualities, for that’s the sign on my 7th house cusp and it is also naturally trine Cancer. So there’s a simpatico there. I like the depth, intensity and vulnerability of that sign. And of course everyone loves a Leo, mostly because it’s so adept at loving you―applauding, cheering, and appreciating you for exactly who you are right now. Leo is, after all, a social sign. Its very nature is designed to be liked. 

I also enjoy Aries in small doses – it’s so vibrant! – but it can be annoying in its egocentricity, which is a quality that Cancer finds difficult to understand. While Pisces is naturally trine Cancer, I have precisely the opposite problem with that sign when it’s expressed in a dysfunctional, exaggerated way―bleeding heart do-gooders that enable bad behavior rather than allowing people to learn from their mistakes. I suspect my aversion to weepy, no-boundary Piscean feebleness reflects my Sun’s square to Neptune, making the archetype of Pisces-Neptune a bit of a shadow for me.

Leah: What have you learned from other signs?

That would take a book, which it just so happens I’ve written! Check out Chapter 4 in An Introduction to AstroPsychology for my take on zodiacal signs. You see, even a Sun-sign Cancer can indulge in shameless self-promotion! 

Leah: What can other signs learn from the sign of Cancer?

That the rest of you are insensitive brutes! (Pisces being the exception, of course, which is low praise to be sure). Okay, I’ll be serious. If there’s something to be learned from Cancer by other signs, it’s the value of understanding, accepting, and honoring personal feelings; and how doing so will invariably strengthen the functionality of every part of the Self.

And now I feel like stopping, so I will!  🙂 

* * * * *

Emotional States, Planetary Responses and the Case of Charles Manson

Emotional States, Planetary Responses
And the Case of Charles Manson

By Glenn Perry


Emotional ResponseIn a previous column, The Significance of Planetary Emotions, we examined how each sign of the zodiac not only symbolizes a set of interrelated needs, but also a range of emotional states. These states are carriers of affective signals, or motives, which move us to perform particular actions to satisfy needs. The ruling planet receives the affective signal and is informed as to the requisite action. Depending upon the planet’s level of functionality, the individual may undershoot, overshoot, or hit the mark just right.

For example, if a Uranian situation arises that requires resilience in the face of unexpected events, a person’s response might range from shock and dissociation to cool, dispassionate objectivity. The latter would be more adaptive, allowing the individual to see the big picture, adjust to the situation, and alter his or her behavior as needed. In real life, of course, such archetypal dynamics do not arise independently, but always involve other needs and feelings. If Mars is involved, the situation may also invoke anger, impatience, and aggression―or, fierce courage in the face of an existential threat.

Imagine, for instance, an Army Ranger (special ops) who parachutes behind enemy lines in Nigeria to rescue schoolgirls abducted by Islamic terrorists, soon to be assigned to ISIS fighters as sexual slaves. Encountering unexpected resistance, he adapts to the situation on the ground in a way that maximizes his ability to survive, kill the enemy and complete his mission. This would be a functional version of a Mars-Uranus aspect. Such a one is, in a phrase, “cool under fire”.

Calibration and Target States
In general systems theory, the relationship of emotion to motivation can be described in terms of calibration and target states.1 A target state is what one wishes to attain on an emotional level; that is, a desired feeling. Whereas a motive is an impulse to do something, a target state is the end state desired. Target states, in other words, are what we actually feel when the motivating need is fulfilled. In the situation above, dual target states are signified by Uranus and Mars respectively: objective perspective (Uranus) combined with joyful aliveness (Mars). Our Army Ranger is committed to staying alive but in tandem with a detached overview that allows for maximal adaptability in pursuit of altruistic ends.

In the table below, I list some target states along with their precipitating archetypal motives.2

Sign-Planet Motive Target State
Aries/Mars  Survival, Freedom  Joyful Aliveness
Taurus/Venus  Safety, Security, Constancy Security & Comfort
Gemini/Mercury  Knowledge, Communication Mental Stimulation
Cancer/Moon  Closeness, Caring, Belonging Caring & Belonging
Leo/Sun  Validation, Self-Esteem Pride & Confidence
Virgo/Mercury Service, Competence, Efficiency Useful & Competent
Libra/Venus Intimacy, Relatedness, Beauty   Intimacy & Harmony
Scorpio/Pluto  Transformation, Integration, Power Powerful & Centered 
Sagittarius/Jupiter  Meaning, Truth, Faith Optimistic, Expansive
Capricorn/Saturn  Structure, Perfection, Success Order & Mastery
Aquarius/Uranus  Overview, Liberation, Progress Objective, Detached
Pisces/Neptune Transcendence, Unity, Forgiveness  Blissful Unity 

Figure 1: Sign/Planet Motives and Target States

Calibration refers to the allowable degree of deviance from a target state before one is motivated to act. Every individual has a range of permissible feeling for a given motivational system. For Capricorn-Saturn, we tolerate a certain amount of failure or lack of success, beyond which we are motivated to achieve. For Venus, we will endure a measure of distance before needing to restore relatedness and intimacy with our significant other.

Again, the term for this fixed range is the calibration, or “setting” of the motivational system. This setting operates like an emotional thermostat. Just as a thermostat automatically responds to temperature changes by activating heating or cooling mechanisms, so human beings automatically respond to changes in affective states by activating corrective behaviors. This underscores that certain states are naturally and innately preferred over others.

With the Capricorn-Saturn system, if a person feels he is falling too far behind in his goals, he will tend to try harder; if he feels he is way ahead of schedule, he may, for the moment, relax and focus on some other need until he again feels an urgency to achieve. Each sign-planet in astrology has a desired (target) state. Capricorn-Saturn would be a state of order, control, and success. The degree of realization of the preferred state is continually monitored by a reference signal – an affect – that specifies the amount of deviance from the target state.

When a disturbance arises in the environment that has a destabilizing effect on the desired state, this effect is registered as a varying reference signal. The degree of variance from the target state represents a measure of error. The indication of error is then used to trigger a behavior that opposes the error. Thus, changes in action (output) are opposed to effects of disturbance (input) in exact measure as to the degree of error from the target state.

To put this in astrological terms, imagine an individual with a strong Capricorn-Saturn component to his personality. In addition to several planets in Capricorn, his natal Saturn conjuncts the M.C. and opposes Venus in the 4th. Saturn’s target state is a feeling of mastery and success. Of late, however, he has been underfunctioning on the job because he has been distracted by his marriage. His wife has been demanding that he spend more time with her and the children. Eventually his boss tells him that he is being demoted due to inferior productivity. This is the disturbance; his affective response includes feelings of anxiety, guilt, and failure. As a reference signal, such affects vary markedly from Saturn’s target state of success.

To the extent that he can tolerate feelings of failure and use them for motivation, he is likely to compensate by working harder, staying focused, putting in extra time, and so on, even though this might exacerbate stress on his Libra-Venus system. With Saturn as the more pressing need, his renewed dedication to work is calculated to counteract feelings of guilt and failure that have been evoked by his demotion. His goal is to re-establish a feeling of success in his career. Once this is accomplished, he can refocus on his marriage.

A primary goal of any organism is to restore balance (homeostasis) by counteracting disturbance and re-attaining its target states. An emotional variable that has slipped out of prescribed bounds is the system’s equivalent of motivation in the sense that it leads the individual to search for a means to bring it back into line. In the case above, the most intensely felt variable was Saturn with Venus hovering in the background and competing with Saturn as a dominant concern.

The point here is that an organism does not simply respond to an environmental stimulus in a direct, linear fashion; rather it controls its responses―turning certain functions on or off―by virtue of intrinsic reference signals: emotions. Human beings have internal needs, goals, and purposes independent of environmental circumstances. A person controls inputs in accord with the effect these inputs are likely to have on desired states. If the disturbing effect is allowed into consciousness―that is, if it is not suppressed, then the compensatory response is calculated to achieve the desired state. However, if the stimulus conflicts with a more pressing need, the individual may employ defenses to sustain the operation of whatever function (action) has top priority.

Imagine that our Saturn-Venus man is confronted by his wife who bitterly complains about his demanding schedule. Given that his job is on the line (he received a demotion), he is likely to use a Saturnian defense of devaluation (putting his wife down) in order to sustain his commitment to rehabilitate his career. He might say, “You’re being totally unreasonable! If I lose my job we can’t keep the house or afford to put the kids through private school!” The determining factor, again, is not the stimulus itself―his wife’s complaint―but the husband’s assessment of the effect her Venusian demands will have on his preferred state of career success (Saturn).

Feedback and TOTE Units
As living systems, human beings utilize feedback to regulate their functioning. A feedback loop is a process in which information about one’s current state is continually compared with a desired state as a way of keeping on track. It begins with some internal standard of comparison—a desired state of optimal satisfaction. In an attempt to achieve and maintain the standard, people compare where they are to where they want to be. If there is congruence, they terminate that set of behaviors; if there is incongruence, they continue to strive.

Open Systems Model

Figure 2: A Feedback Loop

Miller conceptualized this as a TOTE unit,3 which stands for the sequence of Testing one’s state against the standard, Operating if there is a discrepancy, again Testing, and finally Exiting when there is a match between the standard and one’s state of being. If we were to analyze a Taurus-Venus motivational system, Taurus is the need for financial security (safety, comfort, pleasure), and Venus is the capacity for fulfilling it and attaining the target state. As a TOTE unit, it might operate the following way:

  1. Testing: A person experiences a need for financial security and is motivated to satisfy it. He has a standard, or preferred state – prosperity – and tests his current state against the standard. Taking stock of his net worth, he realizes his savings are dangerously low.
  1. Operation: He sets a specific goal that he hopes will satisfy the motive. For example, he decides to embark on a savings plan of putting away $500 per/month, and implements the plan in hopes of satisfying the need for greater security.
  1. Testing: At completion of the behavior―that is, after each month of successfully meeting his goal, he checks (tests) to see if his savings plan has led to the desired state of prosperity. Perhaps he is still spending too much.
  1. Exiting: If his need for greater security is satisfied from attaining the goal, that motive will cease to be dominant and a new motive becomes foremost. After several years of saving for example, he may decide he wants to enjoy life more and plans for regular vacations with his wife (vacation = Leo-Sun motivational system). If, however, his savings did not lead to satisfaction, then he will have to “operate” again by coming up with a new plan.

In the above example, we can see how the Taurus-Venus state of prosperity becomes the standard for the operation of a TOTE feedback loop. Once the person feels the need and envisions its potential satisfaction (providing he believes it’s attainable), he engages in a behavior – saving money – aimed at achieving fulfillment. Upon reaching satisfaction, his state of being will match the standard and the sequence will end (or recede into the background). Every sign-planet motivational system operates in a similar way.

Strength & Functionality
The relative strength of a motive can be inferred from how a planet is constellated in the chart as a whole. If a particular sign is heavily tenanted by multiple planets, then the planet that rules that sign will be continually stimulated and constitute a recurrent state. If a planet is angular, heavily aspected, or in its own sign or house, then the affects related to that planet will likewise be strongly experienced and constitute a dominant motive. It follows that any combination of the above will reinforce the dominance of the affect/drive.

It should be noted that the strength of a planetary function is not the same thing as its degree of coordination with other parts of the self. One cannot tell merely by looking at the chart whether a predominant planet is integrated and functional; only that it will be a dominant affect. If sufficiently stressed by hard aspects or difficult sign or house placement, it might overfunction and be an ongoing challenge.

When a planet overfunctions, it tends to overshoot the mark. That is, it tries too hard to fulfill its motivating need. This is generally due to two interrelated factors. Pursuit of the need is associated with 1) anticipation of unwanted consequences related to a rival sign-planet system to which it is wedded (such as occurs with hard aspects); and 2) a fear that its own need may never be fulfilled. Subsequent efforts are thereby characterized by rigidity and excess. The native cannot stop doing the behavior in order to ward off the unwanted consequences of doing it (rigidity); and while doing it, overdoes it (takes it to an extreme). In effect, the planet overfunctions as a way of defending itself against other planetary functions with which it is inseparably related yet inextricably conflicted.

Charles Manson
To give one obvious example, Charles Manson has the Sun and three additional planets in Scorpio, with Pluto opposing his Moon and squaring Uranus (see Figure 3). Manson was born to an unmarried, alcoholic, sociopathic 16-year-old floozy who once sold Charles for a pitcher of beer. Though he was retrieved by an uncle, his mother eventually abandoned him altogether (after doing a 3 year stint for armed robbery). At age 13, he aped his mother’s crimes by committing a spree of armed robberies and was subsequently incarcerated at the Indiana Boys School (a reformatory “home”), where he would later claim he was brutalized sexually, emotionally, and physically.4 Needless to say, his lunar experience of mother and home(s) was horrific.

Manson, Charles

Figure 3: Charles Manson: Nov 12, 1934, 4:40pm, Cincinnati, Ohio

Recall that if a sign is heavily tenanted by multiple planets, then the planet that rules that sign will be continually stimulated and constitute a recurrent state. With four planets in Scorpio, the need for power and transformation is clearly a dominant motive, and Pluto will thus be continually stimulated. Moreover, Pluto is both angular and heavily aspected, further accentuating its status as a recurrent state and central theme in Manson’s life.

As Pluto is inextricably related to the Moon by virtue of being in the sign ruled by the Moon (Cancer), the house ruled by the Moon (4th), and opposing the Moon itself, activation of Pluto would simultaneously activate lunar needs for closeness, home, and family. It follows that the “unwanted consequences” that Manson anticipated from fulfilling his Scorpio-Plutonic needs were related to the Moon. Unconsciously he would believe that stimulation of lunar dependency needs via Pluto could only lead to more of what he had already experienced as a child: shame, rejection, and violation―in a word, trauma.

Manson’s experience of Plutonic wounding in relation to the 4th house/lunar theme of family was deep, pervasive, and intense. Whatever hope he might once have had for a healthy, functional family was surely destroyed by the time he reached adolescence. Without going into all the details, suffice to say that his need to feel empowered and capable of transforming a bad family experience into a good one was contaminated by the conviction that in pursuit of such a goal his trust would be violated and his dependency needs scorned. In effect, any need for maternal love and belonging (Moon) rendered him vulnerable to annihilation (Pluto) since his power was inadequate to prevent additional trauma. If nothing else, his entire childhood was proof of that.

As mentioned, when pursuit of one need is in conflict with another, the former can act as a defense against the latter. In so doing, it overfunctions―in this case, by being hyper-Plutonic, which is perhaps redundant since the very nature of Pluto tends to be extreme, but never more so than when operating as a defense against a painful, unhealed wound (Moon). So long as Pluto resists the function that needs healing, healing can never occur. This means Pluto can never cease operations because it is constantly stimulating the thing that it fears, which then rebounds upon Pluto, requiring further defensive maneuvers in a vicious, self-escalating cycle. This is like holding a hungry, squirming python by the throat knowing that eventually your grip will tire. You don’t dare release it; yet, the longer you hold it at bay, the less strength you have and the more dangerous it becomes. 

Functioning properly, Scorpio-Pluto transforms through a process of integrating the feared planet. It penetrates, exposes, and eliminates toxic elements while regenerating what has been wounded. This is what healing means; it restores integrity. If, however, Scorpio-Pluto is overfunctioning as a defense against an internal injury, then it becomes a source of dysfunction itself―twisted, deviant, and seeking power over the wounded part. Rather than eliminating what is toxic, it is itself toxic and strives to either subjugate or eliminate the planetary function (and its external representatives) that it has arrayed itself against. This is precisely what makes it vulnerable to possession by the feared element―a kind of unconscious embodiment of the repudiated planetary function―which is then acted out with a vengeance.

Charles Manson
Charles Manson

A common Scorpio-Pluto defense under such circumstances is projective identification: renounce the role of victim by doing to the other what has been done to you. Rather than gaining power by facing and working through fears, power is wrought by instilling fear in others; hence, the victim becomes the perpetrator. This is not the power of integrity, but of intimidation. Manson’s propensity for Plutonic power was immense, but it was not well integrated with the sign (Cancer) and house (4th) it tenanted, nor with the planets (Moon, Uranus, and Saturn) that it aspected.

Regardless of its defensive posture, Pluto is still influenced by the needs and feelings of the planets it repudiates. Dependency needs (Moon) creep in, even though dreaded; the Uranian penchant for revolutionary change is still operative, though intensified and darkened by Plutonic malice. And while Saturnian authority was reviled, Manson set himself up as a petty tyrant presiding over his own cult. Such contradictions make plain that while the psyche can repress unwanted needs, it cannot eliminate them entirely. Like monsters in classic horror films, eventually they break through into consciousness, wreaking havoc. Taken all together, Manson’s Pluto configuration is a psychological complex. 

The central issue, of course, was the Moon, which in Jungian terms was the nuclear heart of the complex. Like a beeping red light on your dashboard signaling engine malfunction, the Moon was continually sending out messages of distress. Manson needed to deal with his need for family but in a manner that protected himself from further harm. His final solution: the “Manson Family”, a paranoid cult comprised predominantly of woman who, hypnotized and controlled by Charlie’s Plutonic powers, were utterly subservient. To prevent what he unconsciously anticipated (rejection, violation), Manson could never let down his guard; thus, all woman were his sexual slaves, obedient to their master. In so doing, any possibility of rejection was minimized.

Moreover, his need for transformation was so extreme that he manipulated cult followers to commit murder for the sake of igniting a fantasized apocalyptic revolution (Helter Skelter) arising from racial tensions between blacks and whites. Manson’s plans for Helter Skelter clearly reveal the imprint of Uranus as the focal point of the T-Square with Moon and Pluto. Yet, as always, the lunar issue predominated, for the revolution he anticipated would be fueled by blacks feeling hated, rejected, and oppressed by whites―in a word, that they did not belong.

One suspects Manson unconsciously identified with the disempowerment and persecution of blacks at the hands of a powerful white majority―a central issue of the 1960’s with the black power movement, the murders of Malcolm X and Martin Luther King, and the drama of Black Muslim, Muhammad Ali, defying the U.S. government. Manson’s fantasized race war in the American homeland reflected a wound involving his own internalized image and memories of home, now projected outwards. Like 18th century blacks abducted from their native lands, he was a stranger in a strange land. He had never belonged to anyone or anywhere. And for that, someone had to die.

It is chilling that Manson’s most famous victim was the beautiful blond actress Sharon Tate, murdered in her own home while eight months pregnant. Stabbed 16 times, Tate allegedly cried, “Mother…mother…” as she was being killed.5 An echo of the horror and pain Charlie must have felt the innumerable times his mother violated his trust? She behaved shamefully, acted criminally, turned tricks (prostitution), failed to protect him, forced him to live in sleazy motels, loved the bottle more, rejected and finally abandoned him. It must have killed his soul. Do to the other what has been done to you. In the end, even the womb was not safe from Charlie’s wrath. All of this is consistent with the preponderance of Scorpio planets and the T-square that Pluto forms to Moon and Uranus. But it is far, far from functional.

Dominant planets like Manson’s Pluto are apt to symbolize a chronic “mood,” for a mood is simply a relatively stable pattern of feeling, a kind of global affective response pattern that is more diffuse and enduring than an affect. It is not merely a response to a specific event, but rather a persistent attitude that saturates a person’s every perception, thought, and behavior. If the planet is Jupiter, the person may be perpetually optimistic, if Saturn, chronically depressed, and if Pluto, deeply paranoid. These affects would repeatedly activate the corresponding planetary function to satisfy the need that the emotion conveys. But if that planet is so defended that it cannot properly integrate with other functions, then it becomes a perpetual sore point, an endless longing, a need that can never be fulfilled.

Summary & Preview
To summarize, people become aware of basic needs through the processing of information from the environment to which they have a visceral response. They experience these responses as emotional states that motivate them to act in state-specified ways; that is, to choose behavioral goals that will result in the desired state of need satisfaction. They tend to persist until the goals are achieved and the needs are fulfilled. If their behavioral strategies prove effective, then goal attainment will result in need satisfaction and termination of the behavioral sequence. Otherwise, individuals are compelled to reevaluate their strategy and decide on a new goal or a new approach.

Astrologically, this process can be understood by relating sign-planet motivational systems to specific affects that are experienced on a range of intensity. Each sign-planet system has a target state, or preferred feeling, that is experienced as a varying reference signal. Deviation from the target state evokes a disturbing affect, which, in turn, stimulates a corrective planetary action that is calculated to achieve the desired feeling. Planets, therefore, symbolize flowing goal-oriented movements that constitute a series of operations conducing toward an end. Such processes involve continuous change until the goal state is reached.

In real life, of course, more than one motivational system can be triggered at the same time, such as when planets are in aspect. Activation of one need simultaneously activates the other. If there is a conflict between the two needs, as is frequently the case, one planet may overfunction as a defense against the other, as we saw in the case of Charles Manson.

In subsequent columns, we will explore how hard aspects can symbolize contradictory states and cognitive dissonance, and why deep attunement to one’s internal world is essential if intrapsychic conflicts are to be resolved.

* * * * *

For information about upcoming AAP courses, click here


1 Perry, G. (2012). Depth analysis of the natal chart. Haddam Neck, CT: APA Press

2 Perry, G. (2012). An introduction to AstroPsychology. Haddam Neck, CT: APA Press

3 Miller, G.A., Galanter, E., & Pribram, K.A. (1960). Plans and the structure of behavior. NY: Holt.

Emmons, Nuel. (1988). Manson in his own words. New York: Grove Press

5 Watson, C., Chapter 14,, “Will You Die For Me?” p. 71. Retrieved June 11, 2016. Manson himself did not murder Tate, but rather directed his followers to “kill them all.”




Andreas Lubitz Birth Chart

Andreas Lubitz
Ascent Into Madness

By Glenn Perry

That’s life, that’s what people say. You’re riding high
in April, shot down in May.1

Andreas Lubitz birth chartO
n March 24th, 2015, the world shuddered upon hearing that Germanwings Flight 9525 inexplicably crashed into a mountainside in the French Alps, killing all six crew members and 144 passengers from 18 countries. In the days following, it was determined that co-pilot, 27-year old Andreas Lubitz, was alone at the helm when the plane began its rapid descent. The flight recorder, which was recovered amidst debris that covered 500 acres, revealed that Lubitz locked pilot Patrick Sondenheimer out of the cockpit after Sondenheimer went to the restroom. During the next 10 minutes, Sondenheimer could be heard pleading with Lubitz to let him in, passenger screams grew increasingly frantic, a pick ax repeatedly tore into the door, but inside the cockpit, the only sound was the steady, easy breathing of Lubitz. Then, a horrific crash. Followed by deathly silence. 

The next day, discussions erupted on Facebook pertaining to the birthchart of Andreas Lubitz. As a participant in some of these discussions, I noted that there were two distinct tendencies in his chart: 1) a manic-like stellium in Sagittarius that trines its dispositor, Jupiter in Aries, all of which is decidedly upbeat and elevated; and 2) the dispositor of Jupiter―Mars in Scorpio―conjunct its own dispositor, Pluto, with Moon in Scorpio as well. This side is extremely dark, intense, and looks like a black hole of rage with no access to his bright, positive, Sagittarian side. Offering a tentative conclusion, I wrote: 
It should not be surprising if it turns out he had manic-depressive (bi-polar) disorder. I suspect that when his dark side took over, it was total. And the event that will define him forever―the murder-suicide of 150 people―is itself a metaphor of his psyche: head in the pink clouds of expansive sky one moment, and sudden descent of soul into a black crevice of death the next.

As I had little information on Lubitz at the time, this was a speculative hypothesis to be sure, almost entirely based on the aforementioned dichotomy of his birthchart: a bi-polar split between light, buoyant Sagittarius and dark, brooding Scorpio. Before analyzing his chart in greater detail, it will be useful to review what we now know about Andreas Lubitz. 

Some Background Facts
Although Germany is notorious for not disclosing medical records, it was almost immediately revealed that Lubitz had an episode of severe depression in 2009 that necessitated taking several months off from Lufthansa’s demanding flight school. However, the airline said he passed all medical and suitability tests “with flying colors” upon resuming training. Germanwings likewise reported Lubitz was qualified, trusted, and showed no signs of physical or psychological distress before the crash. No mention was ever made of manic-depression or bi-polar disorder.

Within a week, confirmation of my hypothesis surfaced. Law enforcement officials searching his apartment obtained a tablet computer containing most of the pilot’s browsing history. Under the name “Skydevil”, Lubitz repeatedly searched for “bipolarity” and “manic depression” throughout the week leading up to the disaster. He also searched terms related to headaches and impaired vision, afflictions for which he was seeking treatment. Other searches were for “suicide” and for information on cockpit doors.2

Investigators found torn up notes from doctors who had placed Lubitz on medical leave as a consequence of suicidal ideation. One letter in his waste bin stated flatly that Lubitz was not fit to do his job. Ominously, the letter had been slashed.3 German officials said these notes were related to a psychiatric illness that was a “long lasting condition.”According to medical records since released, Lubitz was taking medication to treat depression and anxiety disorder with panic attacks.5

While searches for “bi-polarity” and “manic-depression” are not proof that Lubitz suffered from the disorder, it increases the probability that he did. In retrospect, it’s clear that Lubitz hid his mental illness from Germanwings―a task made easy by Germany’s strict medical privacy laws―and concealed from his doctors that he was continuing to work despite their assessment that he was “unfit to fly”.6

Lubitz, Andreas (2)

Andreas Lubitz Birth Chart: December 18, 1987, 10:31 am MET,
Neuburg an der Donau, Germany7

There is no single factor in Lubitz’s chart that can account for such a massive and sustained deception on two fronts. Certainly Sagittarian enthusiasm combined with Scorpionic secrecy might be effectively utilized to present a false picture that all was well when, in fact, he was slowly ascending into madness. I say “ascending” because it is a peculiarity of manic states to use positivity as a defense against a dreaded descent into darkness.
Mania generally presents as elevated mood, delusions of grandeur, and, ironically, what sometimes is referred to as “flight of ideas” (rapid speech and jumps from topic to topic). If sufficiently tempered with depressive tendencies, however, the resultant mix can be difficult to diagnose, especially if masked with medication. Lubitz was reportedly taking medication (an antidepressant with the anti-anxiety drug, Lorazepam) in doses so strong that patients are advised to not drive cars let alone pilot commercial aircraft. Lorazepam (Ativan) is commonly prescribed for bi-polar anxiety, further confirming that he had the disorder. Potential side effects include:
  • confusion, depressed mood
  • thoughts of suicide or hurting yourself
  • hyperactivity, agitation, hostility
  • hallucinations
  • blurred vision

Some of these side effects constitute the very symptoms for which Lubitz was seeking help―depression, suicidal ideation, agitation, hostility, and impaired vision. Even so, the real point is this: unless Lubitz openly and willingly revealed his inner demons, he might merely have appeared a bit hazy, but not crazy. But crazy Lubitz was. Whether from unresolved psychological issues, side effects induced by medication, or a combination of the two, Lubitz clearly was in an unbalanced state when he decided to commit mass murder-suicide. 

Why would anyone, regardless of their state of mind, commit such a horrific act? It is one thing to kill yourself; another to take 149 innocent souls with you. To go deeper into this question, we need to revisit our provisional diagnosis of bi-polar disorder, and more specifically a subtype called “dysphoric mania”. We will then examine Lubitz’s chart for additional insight. 

Bi-Polar Disorder
Bi-polar disorder, or manic-depression, is characterized by periods of elevated mood followed by depression. Manic episodes entail a week to six months of abnormal cheerfulness, boundless energy, and reduced need for sleep. During this time, the person is prone to racing thoughts and foolish decisions based on unrealistic ideas about the future, followed by irritability or rage if intentions are thwarted. In extreme cases, impaired judgement morphs into a psychotic delusion. The individual may fervently believe he has a special “divine” mission, has been “chosen” for some extraordinary destiny, or other grandiose notions.

Depressive periods, conversely, are marked by crying, emotional withdrawal, despair, pessimism, and in severe cases, a wish to die. The latter could be externalized as a paranoid delusion that others wish one dead. Like mania, depressive episodes can last anywhere from a week to six months or more.

Individuals with bi-polar disorder experience on average one episode every two years, with the manic and depressive phases lasting three to six months. There can be a remission of several months or more between phases, or simply an abrupt switch in mood polarity, followed by a period of remission before the next episode occurs. In some cases, however, there can be a faster cycling between the two phases, often four or more episodes in a single year. And at the far end of the spectrum in what’s called “ultradian” cycling (“within a day”), the pendulum is moving so fast it becomes blurred and the individual experiences depressive and manic states simultaneously.

This is what I suspect was happening with Lubitz. Dysphoric mania (or agitated depression), occurs when mania and depression overlap and begin to fuse. Symptoms include agitation, anxiety, guilt, impulsiveness, irritability, morbid and suicidal ideation, panic, paranoia, and rage. It is not a pretty picture. Mixed states are extremely dangerous because despair can combine with anger, impulsivity and sometimes grandiosity to produce a potentially lethal, suicidal-homicidal state.

In December 2014 Lubitz was in a car crash that caused subsequent migraines and impaired vision. This might have triggered a cascade of additional worries, for any impairment in his physical or psychological functioning jeopardized his career as a pilot. Numerous reports state that flying was a passion for Lubitz. As a child, he dreamed of becoming a professional flyer and entered training immediately upon graduating high school. Working for Germanwings was the fulfillment of a life-long ambition.

In the wake of his accident, however, Lubitz was in a double-bind. If he ignored his problems, they could get worse and destroy his career; yet, in seeking help, he ran the risk of being found out by his superiors, which again would end his career. He needed a cure but needing a cure might prove fatal to his identity as a pilot. This sort of double-bind constitutes a pressure cooker dilemma. Caught between Scylla and Charybdis, there is equal danger no matter which way one turns. No-exit predicaments like this can quickly escalate into high anxiety and paranoia―or, dysphoric mania.

Lubitz’s former girlfriend, a flight attendant known only as Maria W., told a German newspaper how Andreas worried that “health problems” would dash his dreams. When Lubitz discussed work, he would become agitated, complaining bitterly about his superiors and the pressure of the job. “At night he woke up and screamed, ‘We’re going down!'” she recalled. Lubitz also told her: “One day I’m going to do something that will change the whole system, and everyone will know my name and remember.” The flight attendant eventually broke off with him because it became “increasingly clear that he had problems.”8

Maria W.’s testimony is significant on several fronts. First, his nightmare of “going down” can be taken as a metaphor, symbolizing his fear of losing control and failing at his job. Termination of employment or “going down” might figuratively have been associated with death. Second, his vow to one day do something to “change the whole system and everyone will know my name” evidences delusions of grandeur. I suspect his fantasy of fame was compensatory to a fear of obscurity coupled with anxiety that his employment (and thus career-identity) might soon be terminated. Unable to accept that his dreams could be dashed by his own health problems, Lubitz appears to have externalized blame onto “the whole system”, by which I assume he means the airlines industry and more specifically, his employer, Germanwings.

Delusions of grandeur can be a reaction formation to delusions of persecution. The latter occur when the person attributes responsibility for unwanted experiences to the malevolent intentions of others. If Lubitz feared being terminated from his job due to “health problems,” and if he could not accept that sometimes bad things happen to good people, then he might have wrongly and spitefully imagined that “they” (Germanwings) were the cause of his problems, or even that they wanted to destroy his career. Such irrational thinking, in turn, can fuel a defense―delusions of grandeur―that compensates for what is feared: he becomes an all-good, omnipotent super-hero that can right all wrongs and, if necessary, even destroy the wrongdoers.

Andreas Lubitz Birth Chart
As mentioned, there are two distinct tendencies in the birth chart of Andreas Lubitz. The first is a massive stellium of planets in Sagittarius in the 11th house, at the center of which is his Sun. The second tendency is an almost equally powerful three planet viper’s nest in Scorpio, which includes the Moon, Mars, and Pluto. Of course, Scorpio-Pluto is not innately evil; rather, it symbolizes a process of transformation that is inherently difficult and usually painful. It is precisely one’s efforts to avoid such a process that results in what we generally call evil―vindictiveness, coercion, violation, betrayal, and murder.

As the dispositor of his Sagittarian planets and also trine them, Jupiter is happily aligned with the first cluster. Yet, it’s also uncomfortably shackled to the second by virtue of being disposed by Mars in Scorpio while also being quincunx Mars and Moon. And at 19 degrees 56 minutes, Jupiter is exactly quincunx the mid-point of Moon and Mars, which makes this 3-planet configuration inextricably, painfully entangled.

Trines, of course, connote easy, open and encouraging relationships, whereas the closing quincunx denotes a crisis, threat, or wound. It seems that Jupiter’s position in the chart is at the crossroads of two, seemingly incompatible paths. An apt metaphor for Jupiter (at least for Lubitz) is Istanbul in Turkey, long regarded as a gateway city that bridges two distinct cultures, Christian and Islamic. Like the trine, the high road points north toward Europe with its refined sensibilities, rule of law, and hopeful horizons. The quincunxial low road points south toward ISIS and the rest of the Middle East, currently embroiled in horrific wars, evil, and death. We will return to this point shortly. But first, the stellium in Sagittarius warrants further comment. 

Sagittarius symbolizes the search for truth and the need for expansion, which is frequently fulfilled through long distance travel, as befits someone who flies for an international airline and aspires to be a long-haul pilot. The ninth sign is associated with hope, faith, and trust in a just and benevolent Universe. Naturally elevated and enthusiastic, problems can arise if Sagittarian energy is over-represented. Too many Sag planets may lead to an overfunctioning of that part of the psyche as evidenced by lack of adequate restraint, blind optimism, excessive faith, missionary zeal, and unrealistic expectations. While impulsivity is inherent to any stellium, it is even more so when the stellium is in a fire sign. Add to this that his stellium’s only outlet is a trine to Jupiter, and we’re off the rails―like an engineer addicted to amphetamines driving a runaway train with no brake heading downhill into a steep curve.

Every sign-planet system can be correlated to a particular mental disorder if that sign-planet system is functioning in an extreme, unbalanced way. As I have described elsewhere, the specific pathology associated with Sagittarius-Jupiter is mania.This alone might be worrying when looking at Lubitz’s chart. However, there are other troubling signs as well.

Lubitz’s Sun in Sagittarius is conjunct Saturn. this would seem to correlate with an unrelenting pressure to succeed as well as a tendency to identify (Sun) with career (Saturn). As stated, Lubitz had the lofty ambition of becoming a captain, the ultimate job position for a professional pilot. Not surprisingly, the pathology associated with Saturn is depression, which can be triggered when individuals perceive themselves as inadequate or inferior. Saturn demands perfection, which is an unattainable absolute; thus, Sun conjunct Saturn suggests a vulnerability to depression if the person feels they have failed to realize their ambitions as a consequence of some personal deficiency. “If he did deliberately crash the plane,” said his ex-girlfriend Maria, “it was because he understood that because of his health problems, his big dream of a job at Lufthansa, of a job as captain and as a long-haul pilot was practically impossible.”10

A further complicating factor is Sun conjunct Uranus within one degree of arc. With the Sun in Uranus’ house―the 11th―and conjunct Uranus, this constitutes a repeating theme and doubling down of the Sun-Uranus dynamic. As ruler of Leo, the Sun’s primary role is to differentiate a separate identity from the collective; that is, to be a distinct individual of some worth and importance. Conversely, the function of Uranus is to recognize one’s embeddedness in the collective, as well as the inevitability of change and progress. The Uranian imperative is liberation from fixed definitions of self by opening to the cosmic will and allowing for the emergence of a transpersonal identity that evolves over time.

Ruling opposite signs and thus naturally antithetical, the challenge with Sun-Uranus aspects is to maintain a stable sense of self in the midst of evolving circumstances that require resilience, recognition of impermanence, and emancipation from the dictates of pride. If unintegrated, a Sun-Uranus conjunction can indicate a relatively weak, unstable self-image, perverse rebelliousness, resistance to change, sense of personal insignificance, and compensatory egotism.11

With regard to the latter―compensatory egotism―the fear of being eclipsed by the collective may drive the person to identify with a radical cause, some grand revolutionary aim such as wanting to “change the whole system…” In turn, this can result in a certain impersonal coldness or detachment, as evidenced, for instance, by a willingness to sacrifice individual human beings for the future enhancement of the race.12 Of course, this enhancement may turn out to be merely the ego in disguise wanting its own enhancement, as when Lubitz unwittingly reveals that his true motivation for changing the system is “so that everyone will know my name.”

Tracing the Flow of Dispositors
An extremely useful tool for uncovering the plot structure of the personal narrative is to trace the flow of dispositors. A dispositor is a planet that rules the sign that another planet is in. The disposed planet passes the baton to its dispositor, which is then required to carry forward the agenda that the disposed planet has set in motion. The dispositor, in turn, relies upon its dispositor, and so on, until the chain ends with a planet occupying its own sign or looping back to an earlier planet in the sequence. A planet in its own sign is called the “final dispositor”, so named because, being in its own sign, it cannot be disposed. As such, a final dispositor has major significance, for it’s the final cause of the entire chain; that for the sake of which every other planetary action contributes.

In Lubitz chart, the chain starts with his Ascendant and the two Capricorn planets, Venus and Neptune. Note that Venus and Neptune do not themselves dispose of any planets since there are no planets in Taurus, Libra, or Pisces. The Ascendant is signified by Uranus, whereas Venus and Neptune are disposed by Saturn. Both Uranus and Saturn are in Sagittarius along with the Sun and Mercury. All four Sagittarian planets are disposed by Jupiter, which proceeds to Mars, and then Mars (with the Moon) is disposed by Pluto, the final dispositor. As a flow chart, it can be depicted thusly:

Andreas Lubitz Flow Chart (3)

Andreas Lubitz Flow Chart of Dispositors

When a planet is the dispositor of multiple other planets, that planet is itself a powerful agent, for its actions are in the service of extensive psychological real estate. The four planets in Sagittarius are all funneling energy to Jupiter, each output modified by the nature of the planetary sender and all relying upon Jupiter to further their aims. Because Jupiter trines each of the four planets it disposes, it amplifies their Sagittarian quality, like an afterburner injecting additional Jupiterian fuel into planets already occupying the sign it rules. Their enhanced thrust, in turn, gives an additional boost to Jupiter, which is yet further strengthened by being in Aries. Like the stellium, which is an Aries aspect, Aries has no off button. Always on, it operates like a constant accelerant for any planet that occupies it―go, go, go! Taken all together, if ever there was a formula for mania, this is it.

The entire configuration is like winning the lottery, an embarrassment of riches. Imagine investing in four different tech companies during the dotcom boom, which combine to produce a profit so immense that you never have to work again―you are free, free, free at last! Buoyed by all this support, Jupiter in Aries is saying “Oh yes! The future is yours! Go forth and conquer!” But wait, not so fast. Jupiter is quincunx its own dispositor, Mars, as well as quincunx Moon in Scorpio. So, what do you do? Giddy with success, you take all that money and invest it in your own start-up company, French Alp Airlines, which goes bust within two years and plummets you into bankruptcy.

This is just a metaphor, of course, but it captures Lubitz’s story in microcosm. Bankruptcy is just another name for disaster, as in “airlines disaster.” As astrologers, we know disaster actually means “against the stars”. In resisting Scorpio’s imperative for psychological transformation, Lubitz quite literally went against his own stars. 

Let us consider exactly how.

Ascent into Madness
Jupiter is the beneficiary of the four planets in Sagittarius, but also sits at a crossroads: Sagittarian planets behind it, Scorpio in front. In other words, Jupiter is the fulcrum that pivots the story in an entirely new direction, and one not so fortunate. Lubitz’s Sagittarius stellium and its trine to Jupiter suggests a super-abundance of faith in his capacity to just go for it; yet, this leads to a painful crisis related to Jupiter being disposed by and quincunx Mars.

An aspect derives its meaning from the nature of the sign that corresponds to that angle in the natural zodiac. A closing quincunx is a Scorpionic angle; thus, not only is Mars in Scorpio, it forms a Scorpionic aspect to Jupiter. This would seem to constitute a reversal of fortune for Jupiter. As a Scorpio angle, a closing quincunx correlates to a wound, injury, or crisis that involves the nature of the planets that comprise the aspect.

The challenge is compounded by Jupiter being quincunx its own dispositor. This can result in blowback. The dispositor (Mars) is not inclined to help the planet it disposes (Jupiter); rather, Jupiter’s actions backfire, having the opposite effect of what was intended. We can understand this as Mars feeling threatened by and hostile to Jupiter’s ethical imperative, as if its needs―for freedom and survival―are jeopardized by Jupiter’s prime directive. The more Jupiter presses for truth, justice, and morality, the more Mars is inclined to attack all that Jupiter signifies. In other words, Jupiter’s actions backfire in relation to Mars. 

While we can talk about planetary functions as if they were separate entities, they actually denote an intrapsychic conflict: two functions feeling equally threatened by the other. If fully integrated, Jupiter with Mars connotes the Holy Warrior, someone willing to fight the good fight, to stand up for the truth. If unintegrated, however, one’s own moral standards (Jupiter) seem to pose a threat to personal survival, freedom, and self-interest. As a consequence, compromise formations develop that involve irrational ideas, projection, and misdirected anger.

Recall that Lubitz graduated from Lufthansa Flight Training School “with flying colors” in 2010. He put in the necessary hours as a flight attendant during an 11-month waiting period, and continued his training by clocking over 600 hours in the air. Then in September 2013 he was hired as first officer for Germanwings, a subsidiary of Lufthansa. Only 25 years old, Lubitz was on the fast track to realizing his dream of becoming a captain and long-distance pilot. One might imagine he was flying high when the crisis struck a year later―an accident that sent his life into a tailspin.

In medical astrology, Mars rules the head, brain, and eyes. It also rules cars and accidents. Following the car crash of December 2014, Lubitz sought help from neurologists and psychiatrists for trauma and impaired vision. According to one report, “He stated during medical treatment that, among other things, it often appeared dark around him…some sources suggested he was suffering from a detached retina.”  Apparently, Lubitz believed he was losing his sight. This was not an unrealistic fear. Vision loss from retinal detachment can progress from minor to severe and even to blindness. Was this a factor in his decision to commit murder-suicide? German officials suspected that Lubitz “deliberately crashed the plane because he was deeply depressed and was being treated for vision problems that could have ended his flying career.”14

So far, all of this is consistent with Jupiter Aries quincunx Mars Scorpio. But surely there is more to the story. If Jupiter Aries is a runaway train on a steep slope, its quincunx to Mars Scorpio is like plunging into a mining shaft wherein hope for survival becomes vanishingly small. Like the Frank Sinatra song, That’s Life, “You’re riding high in April, shot down in May”. After the accident, Lubitz must have felt that his career hit a wall. He tried to ward off the threat by lying to his doctors and employers. But in doing so he put personal wishes and self-preservation (Mars) ahead of what was right, honest, and true (Jupiter).

Recall Lubitz was in a double-bind. Unless he could cure his afflictions, they would destroy his career; yet, being treated for health issues could destroy his career as well, since a pilot with impaired vision―let alone suicidal ideation―would be immediately grounded. Lubitz knew that eventually he would have to submit to an annual health screening by Germanwings to test his suitability to fly. 

When I say that Lubitz went against his own stars by resisting Scorpio’s imperative for transformation, I mean exactly that. The right thing to do would have been to face his fears, disclose to Germanwings the nature of the issues he was battling, and bravely accept any consequences that followed. Take the hit. If he could no longer be a pilot, that in itself would be a death of sorts, a transformation of his status and identity, but one he could endure with sufficient faith that everything happens for a reason. Such an attitude would constitute a healthy, integrated expression of Jupiter quincunx Mars. Instead, Lubitz rejected Jupiter’s moral imperative―that is, his own conscience―by acting in ways that we’re solely in his own self-interest (Mars) and regardless of the risk it posed to the airline and its passengers.

This was a fateful decision, for it virtually guaranteed he would be internally tormented by a guilty conscience. Fear of losing his career was now compounded by the additional fear that his deceit would be uncovered. Even if one’s moral sensibilities cannot for the moment be embraced, they do not go away; rather, they fester in the unconscious, looking for a way out. Often they will show up in dreams. “We’re going down!” he screamed in his sleep. Surely this symbolized a fear that he was about to go down―terminated―for reasons that pertained to his health and character.

Jupiter rules the need for justice, which in Lubitz case must have been extremely strong given the plethora of planets in Sagittarius and their trines to Jupiter. “Justice will prevail” is a phrase that comes to mind. How then did Lubitz feel when, despite his best efforts, life threw him a curve that smashed through his windshield straight into his eyes, brain, and future? My guess is he was enraged by the apparent injustice of it all. I say “apparent injustice” because unless one adopts the long view, which sometimes requires a Herculean leap of faith, life’s exigencies can seem decidedly unjust.

The challenge of Jupiter-quincunx-Mars was compounded by virtue of Moon Scorpio also forming a closing quincunx to Jupiter. The Moon strives to fulfill needs for belonging. Perhaps Moon Scorpio in the 9th was his sense of comradery and closeness with fellow pilots, his airline crew, all together risking the Scorpionic dangers of flight over long distances. Moon is a container, as is the plane itself, which carries passengers and provides caring, food and drink in a cozy, family-like intimacy. Scorpio is the risk that flight entails, with its seatbelts, floatation devices, and drop down oxygen masks. Death is never too far away, as passengers are reminded at the inception of every flight. With Moon quincunx Jupiter, we can surmise that Lubitz was unwilling to give up his airline family in order to comply with the legal injunctions of Germanwings. By hiding health issues from them, he could momentarily preserve his emotional connections, but at the cost of his integrity.

Having aligned with Mars and Moon at the expense of Jupiter, the die was cast. The only outlet for his distressed conscience was to project wrongdoing onto the entity that was his most immediate threat: Germanwings. Through some twisted solipsistic logic, Lubitz must have convinced himself that he was the victim of Germanwings, not vice versa. They were out to destroy his career, steal his life, and dash his dreams. All this when, in fact, he was actually lying to them and, in so doing, endangering their identity/brand as a reputable and safe airline. Such internal contradictions will leak out in the form of anxiety, panic attacks, and morbid feelings of guilt, as if unconsciously the person knows he is behaving badly and will soon be caught. 

Again, we can understand this in the context of Jupiter’s quincunx to Mars. Given that Jupiter is quincunx its own dispositor, its natural outlet to Mars is blocked. Jupiter flows to Mars, but Mars rejects the input because Jupiter’s prime directive creates a crisis for Mars; honesty threatens freedom/survival. Left to its own devices, Mars says, “I want to do what I want to do, and I want to fly!” Thus, Mars gives Jupiter the stiff arm. When an archetypal process is blocked, it tends to back up, like gas under pressure. Without an outlet to Mars, yet still inflamed by the red planet (by virtue of the aspect), Jupiter in Aries will intensify into an extreme version of itself. Imagine a natural gas pipeline that hits a sharp curve in which debris has accumulated, thus blocking the flow. Pressure intensifies until there’s a leak, or an explosion―blowback.

Mars and the Moon, in turn, are insufficiently informed by Jupiter precisely because their interests are threatened by Jupiter’s moral imperative. The consequence is a reaction formation: Scorpionic paranoia rooted in the irrational conviction that representatives of Jupiter―for example, legal officials or superiors―are acting in a persecutory way. In other words, the entire conflict is externalized and projected. Lubitz might have concluded that Germanwings’ policies are overly narrow, hurtful and unjust, especially to him; Germanwings is out to get him. Yet, it’s actually his own guilty conscience coming back like a boomerang. 

If unintegrated, planets in aspect are still subject to mutual influence, but of a sort that operates in an uncoordinated way. Jupiter, for instance, is still moral but in a manner that has an angry, selfish, sociopathic (Mars) quality―as with a pilot on a mission to punish Germanwings for its persecution of him personally. Likewise, Mars will be assertive but also morally outraged by what appears to be an illegitimate, unwarranted threat to one’s self-interest. In short, Mars quincunx Jupiter entails a mutual exchange of energies that operate in an irrational, unbalanced, dysfunctional manner. So, when Lubitz complained bitterly to his ex-girlfriend about his superiors and the pressures of the job, and when he vowed “One day I’m going to do something that will change the whole system…,” he was externalizing an unresolved, intrapsychic Jupiter-Mars conflict onto Germanwings.

The result of such machinations of soul is what we generally call psychopathology, meaning ‘sickness of soul’. As with virtually all people who suffer from mental illness, there is no one diagnosis or astrological factor that can explain the complexity of Lubitz’s pathology. I have already mentioned that Sun conjunct Saturn can indicate a vulnerability to depression, whereas Sun conjunct Uranus can correlate to a relatively weak, unstable self-image, resistance to change, and compensatory egotism (as when a person identifies with a grand cause for the sake of the self-importance it confers). The extreme, unbalanced expression of Sagittarius-Jupiter is consistent with mania. Sociopathy reflects Aries-Mars, and a destructive variant of Scorpio-Pluto is paranoia. 

When all these factors are mixed together in a lethal pressure-cooker of archetypal anguish, you get one Andreas Lubitz. We cannot simply say, therefore, that he was depressed and that’s why he committed murder-suicide. For depressed people, if they kill themselves at all, do not generally take another 149 innocent souls with them. No, it’s much more likely that Lubitz was in a state of dysphoric mania, as evidenced by his internet search for “bi-polar” only days before he flew the Germanwings Airbus A320 into a mountainside.

Given the intrapsychic split symbolized by quincunxes from gloomy Moon-Mars in Scorpio to a hyped-up Jupiter, mania was a likely consequence. Not having an outlet, his Sagittarius-Jupiter energies boiled over into an irrational condemnation of his Germanwings employers. This was likely fueled by the delusion of being an avenging angel, a righteous punisher of wrongdoers. Lubitz was Justice run amok. Simultaneously his Moon-Mars in Scorpio, unable to benefit from Jupiter’s long range, philosophical view, plummeted into a brooding, morbid preoccupation with death and destruction. And this, in turn, led to the final act, the final dispositor, Pluto in Scorpio.

The Jungian analyst, James Hillman, referred to suicide as an “urge for hasty transformation,” by which meant the impulse to resolve an existential crisis through a single, irreversible act of self-annihilation.15 Rather than working through difficulties in the slow, painstaking way that psychological transformation requires, the individual uses death as a way of forcing a premature resolution to a painful impasse. 

If ever there was a signature aspect for “hasty transformation” it would be Mars conjunct Pluto in Scorpio. Mars is a psychological accelerant, tending to quicken, embolden, and render more impulsive any planet it aspects. This is especially true with the conjunction. Deriving its meaning from Aries, the conjunction itself is a Mars aspect, thus exacerbating the inflammatory tendencies of Mars with regard to the Plutonic imperative for transformation. Suicide, in effect, is an impulse to transform quickly and decisively. Ideally, however, transformation should be done slowly and mindfully in the context of a deep, trusting relationship.

If integrated, Mars conjunct Pluto in Scorpio confers tremendous courage to face darkness, pain, and fear, strengthening one’s capacity for healing and renewal. If unintegrated, however, the configuration is apt to be repressed and projected, manifesting outwardly as an aggressive, dangerous adversary intent on doing one harm. I suspect that is ultimately how Lubitz saw Germanwings. Believing that death―termination of his identity as a pilot―was imminent by their hand, he could beat fate to the punch by taking matters into his own hands. Passengers and crew were merely collateral damage. Perhaps he rationalized (or fantasized) that the passengers and crew he intended to kill were accessories to a criminal enterprise, and that by destroying the plane he would do to Germanwings what he was convinced they were about to do to him. 

It is a basic psychological principle that the thing we most fear compels us to bring it about, in one form or another, for in the doing of that thing we conquer the fear. This is the basis of repetition compulsion, the urge to repeat past traumatic experiences in an effort to gain mastery over them. However, if this is done entirely unconsciously, there is no assurance that the lesson will be learned, nor the benefits reaped. Whatever was in his twisted mind at the moment of impact, one thing is clear: Lubitz was in control. Terrified of termination, he terminated himself, and took Germanwings with him.

Summary and Conclusion
We may never know the complete truth of Andreas Lubitz, for he left no suicide note. And even if he did, it would unlikely reveal the deeper, unconscious motivation for his murder-suicide. The best we can do is use his chart to piece together a series of clues. Clearly he was vulnerable to despair, as revealed by the 2009 record of his depression. However, depression is often a half-truth (or diagnosis), the other side of which is mania. This is consonant with his astrological chart, which shows a preponderance of the Sagittarius-Jupiter archetype, while the depressive side is consistent with the Sun-Saturn conjunction combined with the gloom & doom of his Scorpio planets. Given the nature of his final act, we can presume he was in a state of dysphoric mania, a lethal concoction of rage and despair injected into a grandiose delusion that he had a special mission to punish Germanwings.   

What is most striking is how the entire episode of crashing the plane into a mountainside synchronistically reflected Lubitz internal world, as illumined by his birthchart. Manic Sagittarius took him way up to a cruise altitude of 38,000 feet, a soaring state of compensatory happiness that could not be indefinitely sustained. The captain went to the bathroom to eliminate, a Scorpionic act that has a psychological corollary: one must eliminate toxic attitudes or they will poison the mind. He went, Lubitz did not. Upon returning, the captain next became the urgent voice of conscience pleading to be let in. “For God’s sake,” he screamed, “open the door!” But Lubitz successfully shut out his Jupiterian voice of conscience, and was no longer able to do the right thing. Passenger screams reflected the resultant panic attacks that afflicted him, unheeded warnings he was on the wrong track. Like Moon in Scorpio, the plane was a container, now converted by unprocessed pain into a death trap. Usurping the controls was Mars-Pluto. Impatient for transformation―that is, for attaining the power of captainship―young Andreas simply took it. In so doing, however, his fate was sealed. Down he went into the black pit of despair, a mountain crevice that devoured him in a final, deafening crash.  

On my kitchen wall is a sign: “Soar. One’s Attitude Determines One’s Altitude.” While it appears to exhort one to stay positive, I also take it to mean that we should flow with life’s ups and downs. For otherwise the downs can be very down, and much longer than is necessary―or, as in Lubitz case, permanent. The Buddha taught that a major part of life is suffering, and once that is fully and deeply accepted, things get easier from there. It is eerily fitting that Lubitz’s final dispositor was Pluto. Being the final dispositor, all roads (or flight plans) lead to Pluto: the transformational imperative. For Lubitz, the path to transformation was a mountainside. But it did not have to be. I do not believe that Lubitz was fated to kill himself, though certainly there were incalculable choices along the way that culminated in the mindless compulsion to destroy 150 lives and shatter the reputation of Germanwings into a million pieces. But that is the key: choices along the way.

Lubitz was mentally ill, to be sure. Was it merely a chemical imbalance, a side effect of medication, the tragic consequence of some unfortunate event for which Lubitz was not responsible? Or were there unintended, long-term consequences to choices he was making along the way? It is not difficult to understand Lubitz’s choice to lie to his doctors and employers in order to protect the life he wanted for himself―to be a pilot. Yet, in doing so, he had to split himself into competing parts. That simple choice to avoid the truth might have led to a cascade of additional problems, such as sleep disturbance, anxiety and panic attacks, unconscious guilt, and the whole host of symptoms for which Lubitz ultimately sought treatment. But the cure he sought was not in a pill, it was in facing and accepting the truth of his situation. 

At the risk of oversimplifying, I suspect that if a person keeps making bad choices he eventually reaches a point where he loses his capacity for choice altogether. Then, something else takes over: mindless compulsion. His choices now make him; he no longer makes them. If Lubitz’s story can teach us anything, it’s that Plutonic transformation can take many forms. Had he stayed the course, braving whatever torturous twists and turns his path required; were he able to endure the slings and arrows of life’s outrageous fortune; had he been willing to suffer the death of his career-identity and, instead, make integrity his goal, there is no telling what extraordinary feats Andreas Lubitz might ultimately have accomplished. This is transformation of another sort. As it was, he chose the quick and easy way, a hasty transformation. 

* * * * *


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[1] From the song, “That’s Life,” by Dean Kay and Kelly Gordon, on the album That’s Life by Frank Sinatra, 1966

[2] Deardon, Lizzie, “Germanwings co-pilot Andreas Lubitz logged into computer as ‘Skydevil’ to search for suicide methods and information on cockpit doors,” The Independent, Monday, April 6, 2015.

[3] Pearson, Michael, “Germanwings co-pilot Andreas Lubitz declared ‘unfit to work,’ officials say,” April 25, 2015, CNN News.

[4] Faiola, A., and Birnbaum, M., “Co-pilot in jet crash said to have had depression,” March 27, 2015. The Washington Post,

[5] Paris, Henry Samuel, “Germanwings crash pilot Andreas Lubitz ‘lied to doctors about flying and was prescribed powerful drugs’”, April 2, 2015, The Telegraph.

[6] Saul, Heaher, “Germanwings co-pilot Andreas Lubitz’s internet history included searches for ‘suicide’ and ‘cockpit doors’, prosecutors say,” April 2, 2015, The Independent.

[7] There is some uncertainty about the time, but Stephen Watt points to Heather Cameron who has offered the data from the Pilots Forum as 10:31 am.

[8] Logerot, R., and Millar, Kate, “Alps crash pilot told ex ‘everyone will know my name’, March 28, 2015. AFP News, at:

[9] Perry, Glenn (2015). Depth Analysis of the Natal Chart: Advanced Therapeutic Astrology. Haddam Neck, CT: AAP Press

[10] Logerot, R., and Millar, Kate, Ibid.

[11] Perry, G. (2012). From Royalty to Revolution: The Sun-Uranus Relationship. Haddam Neck, CT: AAP Press

[12] Another mass murderer with Sun conjunct Saturn and Uranus (in Gemini) was the Unabomber, Ted Kaczynski, who used the mail system (Gemini) to send bombs to various people for the sake of halting the spread of technology, which, in his mind, was a threat to the future of the human race.

[13] Paris, Henry Samuel, Ibid.

[14] Patterson, Tony, “Germanwings crash: ‘Andreas Lubitz planned to marry pregnant girlfriend’, claims German report,” March 29, 2015. The Independent.

[15] Hillman, J. (1997). Suicide and the soul (2nd Ed.). Dallas, TX: Spring Publications, p. 73

Mercury as Final Dispositor

Mercury as Final Dispositor
Its Meaning in the Horoscope

By Glenn Perry


Mercury as Final Dispositor
     Mercury the Messenger God
Student: I know you have Mercury as final dispositor in your chart. Could you provide some examples as to how you’ve experienced that?

Glenn: As we’ve discussed in class, a final dispositor is a planet that disposes the longest chain of planets in the chart. By definition a final dispositor is in its own sign; thus, no planet can dispose of it. It’s the end of the line, the final cause of the chart, that for the sake of which other things happen. A final dispositor is like a lake into which flows a river that has been fed by multiple tributaries. The longer the chain of planets, the more powerful the river that flows into the final dispositor, wherein the energy pools and deepens over time.
Any planet in its own sign feels like a hand in a glove; it functions in a pure, effortless way. Of course, aspects and house position make a contribution, too, and can present different types of challenges. With Mercury in Gemini as the final dispositor of my chart, I’ve always been an insatiable, lifelong learner.
There are so many fascinating things to know. My idea of heaven is lying in a hammock under a shady tree on a warm sunny day with several books I can peruse to my pleasure. No doubt this reflects Mercury Gemini in the 2nd house.
But because my Mercury conjuncts Mars and Uranus, I was always frustrated in school for not being able to study what was actually of interest to me. Uranus and Mars both have an element of independence and freedom — liberation from prevailing structures (Uranus) and freedom (Mars) to act in accord with personal impulses and wishes. I resented having to study subjects that had no appeal. It was more than boring; it was like a strait jacket!
I always felt that my real education started after I finished undergraduate school, since I could finally start studying what I wanted to learn. For me, being in graduate school was like being able to dine every night at a posh restaurant. That’s when my love of learning really blossomed. Even now, independent, self-motivated learning is something to which I strongly relate. And that’s a part of what I’ve tried to incorporate into my online school.
With Mercury in the 2nd house, storing information is important, as in building a library and having lots of bookshelves, file cabinets and computer files. My Word files are quite complex, and people who see my computer often comment on how many folders I have. But, of course, that’s what Mercury-Gemini likes to do: label, classify, and make distinctions between one category of knowledge and another. Everything I read, I want to keep. I have extensive book shelves in three different rooms on two floors, and each section contains a specific category of books, just like a library. The idea of throwing away a book feels sacrilegious.
A phrase I resonate to with Mercury-Gemini in the 2nd is: “having a wealth of information.” Recall that the 2nd house is not values per se, but specifically those thingsthat we value and wish to possess. For me, the things that I cherish most are Mercury-related, such as books. I have more books than I could ever read; yet, I keep them because I never know what I might want to learn next.
Since the 2nd house is associated with the bodily and earthly realm, I’ve always had a strong interest in new physics and biological research, especially pertaining to the evolution of living systems, starting with the big bang all the way up the chain of being. This was the topic of my doctoral dissertation, although ultimately it was about the evolution of consciousness. I like data that is grounded in things that have real substance. I became fascinated with the idea that living systems are learning systems. That is, even the smallest microorganisms are in some way intelligent and proactive in their hunger for information.
The idea of writing for a living always appealed to me; that is, making money (2nd house) from learning and communication. I remember the first time I heard the phrase “informational products”. I immediately recognized it was something I wanted to do. Tangible products, of course, are 2nd house things, whereas Mercury is information.
In retrospect I can see that being an “infopreneur” is something my life has been leading toward. An infopreneur is someone who is his own creator, marketer, and distributor of information via e-zines, e-books, audio files, video files, websites, online courses, and so forth. That’s me, although making money was never the primary motivation. Learning is. Yet, being able to produce something tangible (2nd house) that enables others to learn (Mercury) does have a win-win practical ring to it, so there it is! 🙂
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Donald Trump Birthchart

Trump the Triumphant
A Sober Assessment

By Glenn Perry

Trump - niceIt seems the impossible is unfolding before our eyes. Donald Trump has risen to the top of the polls amongst Republican candidates for the presidency. While this is disturbing to many, we should not be entirely surprised. Winning is nothing new to Trump. He’s been doing it consistently for five decades. His father once commented that “everything he seems to touch turns to gold.” However, a good chart analysis can provide a more nuanced, three dimensional understanding of the two-dimensional caricature typically presented in the daily news. Before examining Donald Trump’s birthchart for insight into the psychological underpinnings of his Midas touch―and the brazen confidence and self-promotion for which he’s famous―let’s review some facts about the Donald. 

Trump grew up in Queens, New York, the privileged son of a self-made millionaire. As a child he was naturally combative (he once punched a teacher), and at age 13 was expelled for misbehavior from the prestigious prep school he attended. His parents subsequently sent him to the New York Military Academy in hopes he would develop discipline and channel his innate aggressiveness in a positive direction. It seems to have worked. Trump was elected Captain of both the student regiment and baseball team. He went on to Wharton School of Finance where he graduated first in his class with a B.A. in economics. Donald subsequently decided to build a career on his father’s foundation. Frederick Christ Trump was a successful real estate developer in New York City. 

The Donald’s pattern of success has been based on a proven strategy: purchase run down, dilapidated properties on the verge of collapse and then restore them to their former glory. Examples include the old Penn Central, the bankrupt Commodore Hotel, the decrepit Wollman Rink in Central Park, the unfinished Taj Mahal Casino in Atlantic City, and most recently the decaying Doral Golf Resort & Spa in Miami. Once acquired, Trump dispatches an army of architects, designers, and artists to renovate, refurbish, and dramatically improve the property. He then slaps his name on it and declares it the greatest. His guiding principle: “If it’s not the best, it’s not Trump…We represent the gold standard, and so that’s what we deliver. It’s a simple formula―and it works.”1

It is noteworthy that Trump’s run for the presidency is following the same general pattern. In this case, however, the degraded real estate he’s seeking to restore is America itself. Trump is capitalizing on the widespread perception that America is in decline, a once bountiful country now essentially bankrupt with an 18 trillion dollar debt, its elite AAA credit rating downgraded, its military status alarmingly weakened, porous borders overrun with illegal immigrants, industries decimated from bad trade deals, educational ranking plummeting to 17th on a global scale, and an explosion of race related violence in cities like Chicago, Ferguson, Milwaukee, Baltimore, and New York. 

Trump declares: “Let’s face it, America is in deep trouble. Our economy is a disaster. Thanks to Obama, the American dream is dead. But I can bring it back―bigger and better and stronger than ever before.”Classic Trump. His entire campaign is built on the promise: “I can make America great again.” But can he?

Donald Trump’s Birthchart
The first thing that jumps out in Trump’s chart is the strong Gemini-Sagittarius dialectic. With Sun conjunct Uranus in Gemini in the 10th, Trump is a fast talking, maverick businessman who made a career out of his ability to reform existing structures, as in renovating and remodeling old buildings. Sun-Uranus especially correlates with Trump’s outsider status as a political candidate, the rabble-rousing revolutionary leading a movement to overthrow politics-as-usual. This same configuration also enables him to see the global picture―the political and economic milieu―in ways that allow him to orchestrate complex projects and, if necessary, align himself with the forces of change.

Trump2, Donald (2)

Donald Trump Birthchart: June 14, 1946, 10:54am, Jamaica, NY

Like a blazing fast computer, Sun conjunct Uranus in Gemini digests and creates massive amounts of information. In Trump’s first of ten books, The Art of the Deal, he describes how he wakes up at 6am, reads the entire morning paper, arrives at work by 9am, makes 50 to 100 phone calls and holds a dozen or so 15-minute impromptu meetings throughout the day with city planners, mayors, bank managers, lawyers, architects, construction bosses, and so on. “Watch, listen, learn,” he writes. “You can’t know it all yourself…No matter how smart you are, no matter how comprehensive your education, no matter how wide ranging your experience, there is simply no way to acquire all the wisdom you need to make your business thrive.”Former NY mayor Rudy Giuliani notes that despite Trump’s penchant for outrageous statements, he learns very quickly. “The reality is he’s gotten better as a candidate,” says Giuliani. “This man learns like that. It’s unbelievable.”4

With Moon Sagittarius opposing his Sun-Uranus conjunction, Trump has a talent for understanding current trends, such as which way the market is moving in real estate. The Moon, of course, rules real estate, and Sagittarius is about connecting the dots and drawing a conclusion. Sagittarius anticipates the future while conferring an expansive sense of possibility. As Trump put it, “I like thinking big. If you’re going to be thinking anything, you might as well think big.”As the Moon symbolizes our capacity to care as well as our need for belonging (patriotism being one variant), it might be more accurate to say that Trump’s patriotic feelings run large, spilling over into a Sagittarian megaphone and proclaimed in a hyperbolic statement of opinion. It follows that Moon Sagittarius correlates to Trump’s penchant for exaggeration. In his announcement for the presidency, he trumpeted: “I will be the greatest jobs president God ever created!” That, of course, remains to be seen, though no one can doubt Trump’s patriotic fervor and ardent faith in his ability to move the country forward.

The opposition is a Libra aspect that requires the respective planets find a point of balance and cooperation, as in negotiating a deal. Ever since Trump wrote The Art of the Deal it could be argued that he is the world’s most famous negotiator. Not surprisingly, his strategy reflects the nature of the planets and signs that comprise his opposition―Sun-Uranus in Gemini opposed Moon Sagittarius. First, says Trump, establish rapport with the other side by building friendship and trust. Let them know you care, listen closely, and strive to understand what they want. In part, this reflects the Moon (caring, listening, understanding), but also the Sun (friendship, good will, liking the other person). In addition, he says, do your homework by uncovering relevant information; become the expert on the topic you’re negotiating. Clearly, this reflects the Gemini dimension of acquiring data. Next, convince the other side that they’re getting more than they expected; that is, sell them―an obvious Sagittarian tactic.

Trump also emphasizes the importance of remaining flexible and considering multiple solutions to every impasse. Adaptability is inherent in the nature of mutable signs Gemini and Sagittarius, whereas thinking outside the box is Uranian. The very title of his book emphasizes that negotiation is an art, which again reflects the opposition as a Libra angle. Art is inherent in the striving for harmony; that is, play fair, compromise when necessary, and place the other’s needs on a par with one’s own. Finally, the Sun correlates to strong, clear intentions―make the deal, get things done; yet, its conjunction with Uranus symbolizes his capacity to detach and walk away if the numbers don’t comport with his formula for success: buy low, sell high―in short, win.

Mars in Leo Conjunct the Ascendant
An especially important component of Trump’s birthchart is his Ascendant in Leo. In the chart shown here, it’s at 29 degrees Leo, but an alternative time of 9:51am places his Ascendant at 17 Leo. Either way, the Ascendant constitutes an instinctive way of being, that which we do spontaneously and automatically in the service of asserting our right to be. It correlates to the native’s first step forward and thus the first impression others have of who the person is―in other words, his or her appearance and, superficially speaking, personality (at least its outer surface). By definition, the terms person and personality differentiate self from others. Both derive from the Latin term persona, or mask, meaning a character one plays that does not encompass the true (whole) self. 

The Ascendant or “rising” sign is like that: a character one plays, the wrapping on the package, an instinctive way of being that hopefully gets the person moving forward. I say “hopefully” because some signs comport with the Ascendant more readily than others. As Aries is associated with the 1st house, any sign that trines Aries is a good fit for the Ascendant. Other than Aries, probably no sign works better on the Ascendant than Leo. Naturally warm and outgoing, the individual is apt to instinctively garner attention and court approval. As a social sign, Leo does this by making others feel special, which, in turn, inspires them to like you―the Leo rising person. It is a win-win strategy. Naturally affable and magnanimous, I marvel at how quick Trump is to heap praise on people he’s seeking to win over. The voters in Iowa, for example, are described as “wonderful” and “very smart” and “fantastic people” all because, apparently, they’ve moved Trump to the top of the polls in the upcoming caucus.

Leo is the popular sign. Its very nature is designed to arouse support and admiration. In politics this is known as “populism” because it constitutes an appeal to the common hopes and fears of the general population against the privileged, political elite or ruling class. Often it does this by inflammatory rhetoric and unrealistic promises in order to maximize appeal across the political spectrum. Again, this is precisely where Trump excels, not because it is a calculated strategy, but because Leo rising is naturally oriented this way. 

Of course, the Ascendant and Ascendant sign are two different things. The former will influence the way the latter is expressed. This is due to the Ascendant being an instinctive point of assertion; thus, like Mars, it has a quality of assertion built into it. The rising sign, therefore, receives this thrust and tends to manifest more ardently that it would, for instance, if it were the Moon sign. It also describes how one asserts as well as what is being asserted. With Leo on the Ascendant, the native will be instinctively confident, flamboyant, and proud. Moreover, they will assert their specialness at every opportunity, declaring their latest triumph, calling attention to their worth, and so on. All of this is done automatically and seemingly unconsciously―that is, without guile or forethought.

This is why Trump is often described as “authentic” and “a straight shooter”. Unlike typical politicians who calculate their strategy of the basis of poll surveys and campaign advisers, Trump simply lets it fly. Asked if he’s preparing for the upcoming debates by hiring coaches and experts, Trump responds: “Not really, I’m just going to be myself. I am who I am.” 

While Leo is itself a strong Ascendant, Mars in Leo conjunct the Ascendant is like Leo rising on steroids. This is because specific planets, signs, houses, and aspects share an archetypal kinship. Marking the cusp of the 1st house, the Ascendant corresponds to the 1st sign, Aries, its ruler, Mars, and the angle of the conjunction, or 0 degrees. All four variables share a similarity of meaning, albeit in different forms. With Mars conjunct the Ascendant there is a compounding of this archetypal energy since Mars, the conjunction, and the Ascendant are all variants on the same theme. And when placed together, there is an intensification of that theme, a doubling (or tripling) down. Because it is so strong and unusual, when I see this type of repeating theme in a birthchart it takes my breath away.

The intensification of Aries energy by virtue of Mars being conjunct the Ascendant will burst forth in a Leonian manner like a dramatic fireworks display, since colorful Leo is the sign through which the super bold, instinctive nature of Mars conjunct the Ascendant is expressed. With Aries-ruled Mars in a sign to which it naturally trines―Leo―the Donald is like confidence shot out of a cannon, an unstoppable force of nature, a wrecking ball with a smirk. He is the happy warrior, the glitzy gladiator, a charismatic presence so over-the-top in his self-aggrandizement that he comes off as a flaming narcissist. And yet, you can’t take your eyes off him any more than you can ignore an unscripted flasher prancing nude across the stage at the Academy Awards.

Speaking of upstaging, Donald epitomizes it. An often repeated metaphor in reference to Trump is that he sucks all the oxygen out of the room. So much media attention is focused on him that it is difficult for other candidates to gain traction. Deprived of airtime, their campaigns are suffocating, gasping for whatever oxygen can be siphoned away from the Trump express.

Donald Trump's BirthchartMars is the archetype of the warrior. If sufficiently provoked, it can express as anger, or outrage, a readiness to fight against anything that threatens one’s right to be. Focused on the here and now, its notorious “Just do it!” attitude doesn’t suffer fools gladly nor tolerate indecisiveness, weakness, or delay. With Mars in Leo, Trump is tapping into our collective outrage with inept leaders and the do-nothing miasma of politics as usual. In effect, he’s validating that outrage; he’s the wild-eyed cheerleader shouting, “You should be angry!” while simultaneously presenting himself as an action hero who can lead the country out the doldrums and back to the promise of the American dream―a revitalized economy, strong national defense, and get-tough attitude on crime. In a recent speech in Vegas, his blood-flushed face blown up on a background screen, Trump’s performance was so frenzied and incoherent that Reason’s Matt Welch quipped, “This isn’t a speech, it’s a seizure.”

Mars Leo on the Ascendant is like the Howard Beale character in the film Network who, during an inspired breakdown on his own news broadcast, rants about the depression, inflation, gang violence, escalating murder rate, and finally ends up exhorting his viewers to stick their heads out of their windows and yell, ‘I’M AS MAD AS HELL, AND I’M NOT GOING TO TAKE THIS ANYMORE!’ In effect, this is Trump. He’s the politically incorrect madman stoking the fires of civil discontent; the perfect lightening rod for public outrage because he himself is outrageous―raw, fierce, brash, defiant, unapologetic, leveling everyone in his path with a shotgun blast of righteous indignation. Pollster Patrick Murray says that Trump’s attack list of complaints is “resonating with angry voters who are just really frustrated and feel that there’s nobody there who’s voicing that frustration on behalf of them.”6

Hot Air, Scorched Earth

As if Mars conjunct a Leo Ascendant were not enough, Mars also sextiles his Sun and trines his Moon. The lights are beneficiaries of Jupiter as well, which sextiles his Moon and trines his Sun. This is an embarrassment of riches, an extraordinary infusion of positive energy to the Sun-Moon opposition from the two fire planets, Mars and Jupiter. It certainly explains the seemingly limitless faith Trump has in his own abilities, the Midas touch, the larger-than-life persona and extravagant lifestyle.

But it’s not all roses and lollipops. Trump is unbalanced. He has seven planets in yang signs (air and fire), only three in water, and no planets at all in earth. This combination of elements is associated with hot air, the fast talking shyster who can sell ice to Eskimos. Upbeat, engaging, and extroverted, fire-air tends to be impatient with feelings, negativity, or limitation of any sort. Trump boasts that he will get the job done, for he’s a doer. Conversely, “politicians are just talkers,” he sneers. This is interesting in light of Trump’s own tendencies as reflected in his elemental imbalance. Anyone with a nose can smell the projection. Fuel injected by Mars-Jupiter, his Gemini-Sagittarius dialectic jumps into hyperdrive at the slightest provocation: racing thoughts, inflated rhetoric, rapid talking that is difficult to interrupt, and flight of ideas in a nearly continuous flow of bellicose speech. That pretty much sums up Trump’s announcement of his candidacy in a lengthy, impassioned, stream-of-consciousness discourse that had more twists and turns than a corkscrew. It’s also characteristic of Trump’s way of responding to questions during interviews.

Donald may be as full of himself as a bloviating contestant at a hotdog-eating contest, but it seems he does get the job done. At least he says he does. Trump asserts that he’s a Washington outsider who cannot be influenced by lobbyists or special interest groups because he’s funding his campaign mostly with his own money. The Donald never misses an opportunity to remind voters that he’s rich. How rich? “Very rich,” he says, endlessly. “I mean my net worth is many, many times Mitt Romney,” as he put it some time back. “Much, much richer.”He boasts that his assets total 9 billion, 240 million dollars with liabilities of only $500 million, which is mostly long-term debt with very low interest rates. But Allan Sloan, a Washington Post columnist and seven-time winner of the Loeb Award (business journalism’s highest honor), claims that Trump’s figures are more inflated than a hot air balloon.

Sloan lists six key reasons why Trump’s claims are not even remotely credible. As he put it: “Trump’s balance sheet is certainly over-inflated and doesn’t seem to be tethered to financial reality.”After a thorough and critical analysis of Trump’s assets, Sloan concludes: “There is no way on earth to tell what Trump is actually worth, because the numbers [he provides] aren’t supported by anything. If he had presented this balance sheet to me in a personal finance class, I’d have given him a short message: “You’re fired.”

All of this smacks of overcompensation for no earth. If fire-air is like an untethered hot air balloon, no-earth dispenses with gravity altogether while, at the same time, being obsessed with earth-like things and activities, as if seeking an external ground that is not felt internally. This is probably nowhere better illustrated than in his series of Trump Towers, ten or more skyscrapers all over the world that stretch the limits in an effort to get the most height from the least foundation. They are earthy, solid things to be sure―testaments to Trump’s success―yet, their relationship to the ground is ambivalent at best. It’s telling when Sloan says, “…the numbers aren’t supported by anything.” In other words, there’s no concrete substance or reality to what Trump claims is true. For a man who aspires to be president, this is concerning, especially in light of our federal juggernaut that is currently cranking out two billion dollars of debt per/day.

It is well known that Trump has had his own problems with debt, having been through a series of high-profile bankruptcies in 1991, 1992, 2004, and 2009. Each bankruptcy required compliance with a court-approved reorganization plan that even put Trump on a monthly budget for a while. Of course, Trump puts his own spin on this, bragging that he’s used federal laws to pare debt and make “a fantastic deal.” Trump deals exclusively in superlatives―the biggest, the best, the most fantastic―which reflects his Mars Leo Rising and fire-air nature, but also renders questionable the majority of his claims. Trump crows that his Art of the Deal is the best-selling business book of all time; his Macy’s line of clothing is the classiest; his Trump-branded casinos and hotels are the most luxurious; his Trump-branded golf courses are the greatest in the world; The Apprentice is the top-rated reality-television show, and on and on. But as Kevin Williamson of National Review put it, “None of that is ever true, of course.”9

In the public lexicon, the name “Trump” is almost synonymous with excess, overdoing, and going too far. This itself should give one pause. When the machinery of government is struggling to right itself and not spend more tax revenue than it takes in―an almost impossible task in today’s era of entitlement―is it realistic to believe that Trump is the man to turn this around? To be frugal in the budgets he submits to Congress? To reign in our 18 trillion dollar national debt? Putting Trump in charge of the federal budget may be like giving an amphetamine-addled adolescent responsibility for managing the family trust fund.

Summary and Conclusion
By any standard, Trump has led a remarkable life. That he should be 10 points ahead of his nearest Republican rival is even more astonishing. So far as I know, it is unprecedented that a non-politician could be leading the polls by such a wide margin in a presidential primary. Clearly, Trump’s style if not his message is resonating with an angry populace. His Sun-Moon opposition in Gemini-Sagittarius is consistent with his mercurial, expansive personality, quick mind, and capacity to persuade. Add Mars to a Leo Ascendant and the resultant combination is a combustible mix of brazen confidence, mental toughness, and moral outrage. Given the low approval rating of both Congress and Obama, a significant percentage of the country would like to fire the lot of them. And who better to do the firing than the Donald whose signature line is, “You’re fired!” 

Yet, the same parts of Trump’s chart that make him extraordinary as a businessman/entertainer make him vulnerable as a politician. His preponderance of air-fire signs and the Mars-Jupiter infusion into his Sun-Mon opposition contribute to the widespread impression that Trump is over-the-top, more of a spectacle than someone to be taken seriously as a presidential contender. If he were a building, most assuredly he would be a skyscraper, but is there an adequate foundation to sustain the structural integrity of that skyscraper during a hurricane? A sitting president will face several during his tenure. And why does a very rich man need to remind us constantly of how “very rich” he is? In his self-comparison to Mitt Romney, we catch a glimpse of a deep insecurity and tendency toward envy. These are not good signs for a prospective president, for they suggest that his brash self-confidence is compensatory for an unconscious fear that may lead to self-undoing, which America can ill-afford.

Trump’s presidential run reminds me of Aesop’s fable The Turtle and the Hare. As the story goes, the Hare ridicules the slow-moving Tortoise. Tired of the Hare’s incessant boasting, the Tortoise challenges the Hare to a race. Being an extremely fast runner, the Hare quickly leaves the Tortoise in his wake and, confident of winning, decides to take a nap halfway through the race. When the Hare awakens, however, he is startled to discover that the Tortoise, crawling slowly but steadily, has already crossed the finish line. The moral of the story is self-evident. Foolish over-confidence can lead to poor decisions that, in turn, result in defeat. Will Trump’s compensatory over-confidence inevitably result in a poor decision that collapses his candidacy like a crumbling tower and causes him to lose the race? Many pundits are expecting just that.

In other ways, Trump also reminds me of George Armstrong Custer, the red-haired, flamboyant, narcissistic general of the 7th Calvary who, in pursuit of personal glory, led his troops to massacre at Little Bighorn in 1876 by grossly underestimating the magnitude of the challenge he was facing. At the time of this writing, Trump is way out in front, as befits someone with Mars Leo on the Ascendant. If nothing else, Trump is a front runner, a sprinter by nature. And though he’s injected incalculable excitement into the Republican primaries, it remains to be seen how he will fare in the long run. One suspects his supporters may soon discover they’ve invited the bull into the proverbial china shop, a creature of instinct entirely unsuited to the intricate civilities of Washington politics. It has often been said that politics is a blood sport. If so, then perhaps it best requires the grace and courage of a bull fighter, not a bull.

* * * * *

For information about upcoming AAP courses, click here


1 Newsmax, “Trump Does It Again,” July, 2015, p. 75-76 email, special sponsored Message to Newsmax Readers, 8/1/2015

Richter, Greg, “Rudy Giuliani: Trump Good for GOP,”, July 28, 2015,

Beamon, Todd. “Pollster on Trump: ‘Shotgun Approach’ Having Real Impact,”, July 30, 2015, 

Williamson, Kevin. “The Art of the Grotesque,” in National Review, August 10, 2015, p. 34.

Sloan, Allan. The Washington Post News, June 16, 2015. “6 reasons you can’t believe anything Donald Trump says about his $9 billion net worth,” at:

Williamson, Ibid., p. 35

AstroPsychology as Grounded Theory

Drawing Down the Heavens
AstroPsychology as Grounded Theory

By Glenn Perry

 In this article, I examine the origins of astrology as an outcome of inductive and deductive reasoning. Whereas inductive logic arrives at conclusions on the basis of concrete data, deductive logic predicts concrete outcomes on the basis of established principles. The danger of overreliance on deduction in astrology is that it can lead our field into a solipsistic, self-referential dead end―a closed system that fails to evolve. AstroPsychology may be a corrective to this trend in that it is a hybrid model grounded in data that derives from ongoing research across disciplines. 


AstroPsychology as grounded theory

Astrology from its inception has been based on data that correlates human experience to celestial movements. For example, if individuals born within thirty days following the vernal equinox were consistently observed to be more courageous than average, early astrologers logically concluded that Sun in Aries correlates to courage as a personality attribute. This is inductive reasoning.

However, once the general meanings of astrological variables were established―meanings of signs, planets, houses and so forth―practitioners were able to deduce probable outcomes from planetary positions. Deductive reasoning is the basis for the predictive dimension of astrology, reasoning from the general to the specific. If a particular configuration occurs, we can deduce its meaning (outcome) from time-honored principles of interpretation.

In doing so, however, there is a tendency to perpetuate a certain type and level of understanding―that is, to see what we have grown accustomed to seeing, to ask the same old questions and arrive at the same old answers. For a theory to evolve, there must be a willingness to depart from deductive reasoning that presumes a particular outcome on the basis of established principles. Even when correct, a deductive approach to knowledge tends to perpetuate the very theory that generates its predictions.

Conversely, an inductive approach to knowledge is rooted in whatever further data can be gleaned from a topic. Rather than predict, the goal is simply to observe, but with new eyes and fresh questions that probe ever deeper into the phenomenon under study. An evolving theory should be open to new data from which a more comprehensive understanding can emerge. Inductive reasoning is the essence of grounded theory as a research methodology. 

AstroPsychology as grounded theory implies a model derived from inductive logic, which is reasoning from the specific to the general. Again, you begin with some data, and then determine what general conclusion(s) can logically be derived from that data. Having Jupiter in Capricorn, I prefer my theoretical formulations about astrology to be as grounded as possible in tangible evidence. While my library has burgeoned to dangerous proportions―threatening to spill out into every room of the house―I must admit my thinking has been more influenced by client work than books. Of course, both are indispensable, but one advantage of working with clients in the slow, painstaking way that psychotherapy allows is that you get to see astrology up close in real time, like a botanist observing the unhurried, almost imperceptible movement of a flower unfolding its petals. After four decades of watching clients struggle, grow, and evolve, my understanding of astrology has changed.

Although I was a professional astrologer before becoming a psychotherapist, it always seemed to me that the two fields had much to offer one another. Both focus on human behavior; yet, astrology provides a language for disclosing connections between inner and outer realms of experience that goes far beyond anything psychology has to offer. At the same time, psychology offers new concepts and a methodological rigor that has broadened, deepened, and sharpened my understanding of astrological symbols. In short, I have tried to look at both fields with new eyes and fresh questions. The ongoing work of synthesis warrants a name, “AstroPsychology”. But what exactly does this mean?

A definition of AstroPsychology should start with a brief history of the term. Although astrology as generally practiced can be traced back to the first century B.C.E., its latest mutation―psychological astrology―occurred at the turn of the 20th century in response to three events. First, positivist science was at its peak and there was little tolerance for archaic systems like astrology that did not fit into the reigning mechanistic paradigm. Traditional, event-oriented astrology had come under increasing legal scrutiny, and astrologers actually risked arrest for making predictions. Focus on personality description was more acceptable, however, and so enabled astrologers to continue practicing with relative impunity.

Second, the theosophical movement that began during the latter half of the 19th century was in full swing and many of its leaders were astrologically literate, including Alice Bailey and Alan Leo. Because Theosophy addressed the spiritual, subjective realm of being—that is, psyche—Buddhist and Hindu ideas concerning karma, reincarnation, and growth of soul were incorporated into astrology.

And third, the new discipline of psychoanalysis was becoming increasingly popular during the opening decades of the 20th century. Given that astrology and psychoanalysis both sought to explain human behavior, astrologers were naturally drawn to the deeper, interior realm of psyche that Freud and his followers were beginning to articulate.

Together, these three factors launched a new kind of astrology that came to be known as psychological astrology. Its most noteworthy exponents were Alan Leo, Charles E. O. Carter, and Marc Edmond Jones. At the beginning of the movement, psychological astrology was little more than superficial descriptions of behavior, albeit in greater detail than typically occurred with traditional astrology. Toward the middle of the century, however, Dane Rudhyar began introducing Jungian and humanistic ideas into the field with an increasing emphasis upon the human capacity for growth and change.

By the 1970’s, the incomparable Richard Idemon began using the term “AstroPsychology” to differentiate his brand of Jungian oriented astrology from other practitioners. In Europe, the Swiss astrologer, Bruno Huber, also adopted the term, but with different meaning. Our work at the Academy of AstroPsychology can be seen as an evolution of Richard’s, though it has little in common with the Huber school.1

A New Personality Theory
Most of psychological astrology in the 20th century could be characterized as a mish-mash of humanistic and Jungian ideas without any formal structure. As such, it never developed into a systematic, full blown personality theory. Different authors made noteworthy contributions; yet, no single contribution reached the level of a personality theory in the tradition of a formal, psychological model. According to Hall and Lindzey’s classic tome, Theories of Personality, any adequate theory of personality should accomplish the following minimal objectives:2

  1. It must be comprehensive, or integrative, in that it deals with the total, functioning person.
  2. It must account for what motivates the human being.
  3. It must contain a set of empirical definitions concerning the various parts of the personality, thus permitting observation.
  4. It must consist of a network of assumptions about behavior that are systematically related in accordance with certain rules.
  5. It must be useful in that it is capable of generating predictions about behavior that are testable and verifiable, thus expanding knowledge.

Again, astrologers have made little if any attempt to meet the foregoing objectives in an explicit, systematic way. Yet anyone familiar with astrology knows that it implicitly meets all these requirements. Astrology is comprehensive in that it is concerned with all the parts and processes that make up the human psyche. The signs of the zodiac symbolize the basic drives that motivate human conduct, and their planetary rulers constitute parts of psychic structure that can be empirically defined, thus permitting observation. Rules of chart interpretation—chart synthesis—represent a network of assumptions about behavior that are systematically related. Finally, astrology is useful in that it is capable of generating predictions that are verifiable, thus promoting research and expanding knowledge.

For these reasons, a primary objective at the Academy of AstroPsychology has been to develop astrology into a comprehensive model of the psyche—an astrological theory of personality, if you will—that explicitly meets all of Hall and Lindzey’s criteria.As a meta-model, AstroPsychology cannot be defined in terms of any particular theory, but rather synthesizes a variety of ideas from different perspectives, including psychodynamic, cognitive behavioral, Jungian/archetypal, object relations, humanistic, transpersonal, and general systems theory. It also utilizes information derived from developmental psychology and various spiritual traditions that emphasize the evolution of soul within an overarching, reincarnational framework. Rules for chart synthesis are explicitly formulated that allow for precision of meaning at a psychodynamic level while also allowing that astrological archetypes can manifest outwardly in a variety of ways. Particular stress is placed on the birthchart as symbolizing a developmental process that is expressed and experienced differently over time.

While ancient astrology roughly described how human behavior correlated to planetary positions, these descriptions were limited to surface features of the personality. In contrast, AstroPsychology plumbs the depths of soul and does so in terms that did not even exist prior to the 20th century. Basic needs, psychological functions, affect states, intrapsychic conflict, internal dialogues, unconscious complexes, defense mechanisms, pathogenic beliefs, personality disorders, developmental stages, and the gradual but inexorable movement toward self-actualization are all explained with the framework of AstroPsychology. Students do not need any background in psychology to understand these concepts, for they are seamlessly interwoven with astrology. In sum, this is what distinguishes AstroPsychology from psychological astrology in general: its broad, inclusive structure, emphasis on development, systematic precision, depth of focus, and spiritual import. 

Perhaps the single most defining attribute of AstroPsychology is its focus on integrating the birth chart and, thus, supporting the human potential for growth and change. Integration can be defined as the process of developing, differentiating, and coordinating personality components into a functional unity. Emphasis on integration is grounded in research that suggests the very purpose of human life—if not all life—is to evolve into more complex states until individuals recognize their at-one-ment with source. As the philosopher Manly Hall put it, “Man can think of his own life either as the fulfillment of himself, or as the gradual completion of a greater existence of which he is a part and with which he is indissolvably associated.”4

The Significance of Events
While AstroPsychology by definition is psychological, it also honors the importance of external events. Every variable in the chart has both a subjective and objective meaning, which implies that inner and outer reflect one another in an acausal, synchronistic way. As such, neither determines the other in a linear sense; rather, the relationship is circular. Psyche—that complex of attributes experienced as thought, feeling, and will—impacts the environment which, in turn, reacts upon the person in a continuous interactive cycle. Psyche is both a cause of, and response to, environmental conditions; we are defined and refined by our relations with the outside world.

If psyche encompasses its relations with the environment, then consciousness is non-local and what we call “fate” may actually be soul concretized through experience over time. This is what the birth chart seems to symbolize—an exteriorization of the soul’s pattern in terms of physiology, personality, and environment. Every meaningful experience is a synchronistic reflection of a pre-potent psychic structure that evolves by processing the event-consequences of its own internal states. This alone makes AstroPsychology unique as a personality theory.

The non-local, evolutionary nature of consciousness further implies that birthcharts do not depict a static character and unalterable fate. Rather, the horoscope symbolizes an unfolding process (soul) that learns, develops, and expresses itself at higher, more integrated levels over time.

Given that AstroPsychology is non-deterministic, its approach to forecasting warrants further comment. Over the last several decades, psychological astrology has been characterized as lacking sufficient focus on concrete, external events. Its seeming indifference to prediction rendered it vulnerable to criticism by practitioners who believed astrology’s primary function is (or should be) foreknowledge of the future. Also, if psychological astrologers do not have to predict empirical events, they are insulated from any kind of disproof mechanism. Statements about the inner world cannot be evaluated for accuracy with the same rigor as statements about the outer world. Accordingly, 20th century psychological astrology drifted into a fuzzy, vague, shoot-from-the-hip approach that made it suspect in the eyes of serious scholars.5 

AstroPsychology strives to remedy this problem. Again, while its primary focus is the psyche, there is also a keen interest in external events—not merely to predict them for their own sake, but to discern their significance as evolutionary drivers. An evolutionary driver is an event that serves as a catalyst and vehicle for a developmental process. As a catalyst, it triggers a shift in the native’s thinking and behavior that empowers him or her to meet a situation more effectively. And as a vehicle, it provides exactly the right type of situation—whether in marriage, career, health, or otherwise—to serve a corrective or educative purpose.

Understanding the significance of outer events enables astrologers to discuss them with clients in ways that support a natural, evolutionary process, for the event in question will always reflect a key configuration in the birthchart, whether natally or by transit/progression. When clients gain insight into what a situation means and requires from a growth oriented perspective, they are better able to consciously evolve; that is, intentionally collaborate with the cosmos toward realization of their full potential.

Another reason that events are important is that they provide a barometer for measuring the native’s level of functionality in a particular area of life. In other words, they serve a diagnostic function. If, for example, a woman with Neptune conjunct Mars in Scorpio in the 7th house consistently marries alcoholic, abusive men who exploit her financially, this is an important indication that she has significant work to do in the area of partnerships. On the other hand, if she enjoys a stable marriage with a man with whom she sets up a joint therapy practice that specializes in helping undifferentiated, low functioning couples in crisis, then this is an indicator that she is expressing that same configuration at a higher, more integrated level. Both outcomes equally express the same configuration. 

The question arises as to whether either outcome could be predicted. From the perspective of AstroPsychology, predicting specific outcomes is a guessing game of dubious merit even when the guess turns out to be correct. First, as the above example illustrates, a given configuration can be expressed at different levels of integration; thus, predicting outcomes is problematic—especially in the absence of historical knowledge about the person for whom one is predicting. Second, and more importantly, foreknowledge of an event is unhelpful if there is no understanding of the event’s significance as a vehicle for a specific kind of developmental process. What can be predicted, however, is the process that underlies the particulars of the event.

By “process” I mean the underlying needs and psychological functions of the configuration that serve as generative matrix for the event. Consider, for example, a client who has Sun conjunct Venus in Pisces in the 10th square Mars in Sagittarius in the 7th (see Figure 1). As a nurse, she is constantly encountering unruly, self-righteous others who insist that she immediately comply with their demands. In other words, her 7th house relationships are characterized by an outspoken and aggressive Mars in Sagittarius, which she is projecting. As a result, she identifies with her Venus-Sun in Pisces at the expense of her Mars. She is kind, loving, and compassionate, but frequently feels like a victim of other’s selfish aggression. As an event-pattern, her experience can be understood in terms of the level of integration she’s expressing with regard to the square.

Sun-Venus square Mars

Figure 1: Sun conjunct Venus square Mars

As a process, each planet in the configuration signifies a basic need and behavioral action—to express oneself and fulfill self-esteem needs (Sun), to engage others and satisfy needs for social relations (Venus), and to act in one’s own self-interest for the sake of freedom and survival (Mars). These planetary processes are colored by the signs they tenant, and unfold in the context of the houses they occupy. The square signifies an intrapsychic conflict that requires containment in awareness of the respective processes so they can be effectively coordinated. To the extent this conflict remains unconscious and unresolved, defenses like repression and projection will assure that troubling events occur without her having any awareness of her own role in bringing them about.

From an astrological perspective, however, we can see not only the quality of events that are likely to occur, but their meaning and purpose as well. We might infer that the event-pattern of aggressive others impinging upon our kindly nurse is occurring for the sake of arousing her own Mar’s function to awareness so that it can be more fully integrated with her Venus-Sun. Fire has to be fought with fire, but tempered with fairness (Venus) and honor (Sun) that expresses compassion (Pisces) toward her offenders while also asserting clear limits (Mars). To the degree that she is able to rise to the challenge that her circumstances dictate, both her relationships (7th) and career (10th) will improve.

A single event might encapsulate the pattern. That is, it can reflect the underlying process and provide a vehicle for its further integration. Imagine that when the configuration is activated by a transit our sensitive client has to contend with intrusive demands by a high-minded nurse with whom she is partnering in a ward for accident victims. Such an outcome would reflect the astrological variables involved in her natal square. But any number of other events can serve the process just as well. Accordingly, predicting concrete events is secondary to knowing the abstract function they serve. Prediction is important, but not as an early warning system to advise clients in taking evasive or exploitive action; rather, prediction can be utilized as a means of supporting the client in meeting life’s opportunities and challenges with the proper attitude. By understanding the underlying purpose of a given period, clients are better able to actualize the potential for growth inherent in the time.

Inescapable Indeterminacy
De-emphasis on predicting concrete events is also in keeping with the multidimensionality, intra-dimensional variability, and polyvalence of astrological archetypes. An astrological variable is multidimensional in the sense that it can symbolize multiple dimensions of meaning both within and without. For example, Mars can signify a basic need (survival), psychological function (assertion), state of mind (excitement), and behavioral trait (bold), while also representing an external character (rival), place (racetrack), thing (weapon), or event (competition). Within any of these dimensions there is intra-dimensional variability. As an event, for instance, Mars could also be an argument, a new beginning, or simply an adventure. Finally, astrological archetypes are polyvalent in that they combine with other variables—signs, houses, and aspects—which shape and modify their expression in countless ways.

With regard to polyvalence, a configuration such as a planetary aspect involves multiple signs, planets, and houses. As such, it constitutes a higher level system that exerts regulative control over its component parts. The aspect constrains, shapes, and modifies the functioning of the parts so that they comply with the objectives of the higher level system. Although every component has multiple possible expressions, each is swept up in the structure of the psychic form it helps to comprise; thus, from the myriad potential expressions of each part, each particular expression is selected and coordinated to form a single, coherent, relatively integrated holistic pattern, much like a family exerts regulative control upon its members to comply with the values and objectives of the family as a whole. Without such downward causation, the internal world of the psyche would be a teeming, buzzing chaos.

Astrology’s enormous flexibility as a language means there is an inescapable ambiguity and indeterminacy to birthcharts. One cannot reliably determine concrete particulars from a system that is inherently indeterminate. This underscores why predicting process—the purpose and meaning of a time period—not only is of greater value than guessing outcomes, it is also more in accord with what is actually possible. Purpose and meaning occur at a higher level of abstraction than concrete particulars; or, stated in the reverse, different manifestations of a configuration can have the same or similar meaning.

For example, imagine two individuals with identical charts—one a Catholic priest and the other a white supremacist—both of whom have transiting Jupiter conjuncting Pluto Scorpio in the 9th opposing Mars Taurus in the 3rd (see Figure 2). Separate events occur that are personally relevant to each. In the first, the Catholic priest is accused of sodomizing a young boy in his congregation but is protected from prosecution by the archbishop of his province. In the second, a prejudiced Alabama court acquits the white supremacist who is being tried for blowing up a black church and maiming a little girl. Concretely, the events seem different; yet, at a higher level of abstraction, each incident constitutes an injustice in which a powerful but corrupt moral authority—the archbishop and Alabama court—exonerates a perpetrator who has violated a victim in a church.


Jupiter Transit

Figure 2: Transiting Jupiter conjunct Pluto in the 9th

Although the particular outcome in each case is not predictable, astrology allows us to surmise the meaning of the period independent of the events that occur. The outcome was fortunate for the perpetrators, which correlates to the Jupiter transit, but fortunate in the context of a heinous act symbolized by Pluto Scorpio in the 9th opposing Mars Taurus in the 3rd. One might infer from the variables involved that the purpose of such a transit is for the perpetrators to reflect upon the moral implications of their violent crimes. Although each escapes punishment, we should not assume that such injustice has no value as a learning experience. The extent to which our pedophile priest and racial bigot mend their ways will be tested by the next major transit to the same configuration. If it is Saturn, they might not be so lucky. The upshot is that the outcome of a transit might not be knowable in advance, but its meaning and purpose can be.

Summary & Conclusion
Psychological astrology began in the 20th century in concert with cultural developments that set the stage for the emergence of a new type of astrology. While early formulations tended to be vague, imprecise, and overly focused on behavioral traits, AstroPsychology presents a highly structured, coherent system that not only reveals the intrapsychic world with unprecedented depth, clarity and precision, but is equally mindful of the circular feedback relations that occur between inner and outer reality.

AstroPsychology recognizes the importance of events as vehicles and catalysts for a developmental process; yet, also accepts the radical indeterminacy of outcomes and thus the futility of predicting events if incognizant of their significance as evolutionary drivers. By stressing the abstract meaning of events over their concrete form, individuals are empowered to consciously cooperate with an evolutionary imperative at the heart of the cosmos.

A prime objective at the Academy of AstroPsychology has been to develop astrology into a theory of personality that is both rigorous and flexible. The purpose of this effort is not merely to gain acceptance for astrology within the field of psychology, but for the inherent value of building a cutting edge, cogent model that subsumes and integrates relevant concepts from different traditions and thereby advances our understanding of what it means to be human.

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1 This article is abstracted from Perry, G. An Introduction to AstroPsychology. Haddam Neck, CT: AAP Press, 2012.

Hall, C., & Lindzey, G. (1978). Theories of person­ality. New York: John Wiley & Sons

The Academy of AstroPsychology offers online classes in astrology as a personality theory, developmental model, and diagnostic/prognostic tool.

4 Hall, M.P. (1954). The essential nature of consciousness. Los Angeles: Philosophical Research Society

 5 Hand, R. Toward a Postmodern Astrology. Published at, cited September 1, 2014.


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